Blindsided
by dabbling
Summary: Part 1 is a post ep for Blind Spot, which then travels through Siren Call. Part 2 travels through the rest of season six. Part 3 continues on until Frame. It's like watching the show but getting a whole lot of behind the scenes and in betweens, too! His weakness allowed them to get to him through her. But even after the ordeal, Bobby still had a blind spot.
1. Chapter 1

Blindsided part I

A/N BLIND SPOT SPOILERS! (Duh) In fact, I completely plagiarized the entire scene of Jo's confession. Okay, I added more to it, in the form of insights into Bobby's thoughts. Anyhow, thank you LOCI writers for writing such a shuddering awful bunch of characters (The Gage family), and the good ones, too (our heros)! Hopefully this story will be a fun diversion for us all, and slightly different than most of the other Blind Spot post-eps in FF.

* * *

She was asleep again, and Bobby found now there were two things he couldn't stop doing: smiling and bouncing his leg.

His foot jumped completely off the floor and came down with a slap. He forced a halt to it, worried the noise might startle her.

She'd been tortured. Even the movement of the curtain had frightened her. The last thing Bobby wanted was to cause her any more distress. He made a concerted effort to keep his leg still, but as his thoughts began to churn, the movement began again, too.

He was still having a hard time sorting it out. The killer… Sebastian… something didn't sit right about it all. And no matter what Bobby had done throughout the investigation… Declan was right in the middle of everything, a suspect in the Captain's mind, mentor again to Bobby, another brain to pick for ideas, links, information.

And then there was Jo.

His foot was drifting farther away from his body with every jump. Bobby replaced it under him and stilled his leg momentarily. Jo was too close to this. And now that he thought it through, he knew her affect was off. She hadn't really been upset at the loss of her roommate.

Bobby knew Jo's childhood was like none other. He'd assumed growing up with Declan had just… inoculated her against the horror of such violence, immunized her from the emotional pain of it all. Now, though, without the crippling terror he'd experienced while Alex was missing, he was having an epiphany.

Jo hadn't been upset when her roommate was brutally killed.

Jo had never been first and foremost in Declan's eyes.

Jo had a million reasons to want to see her father embarrassed, inconvenienced… to want to see him squirm.

Bobby stilled his leg once more, smiled to see Alex in the flesh in front of him again, and then barreled out of the room. He was dialing the Captain before he was even down the hall.

* * *

They visited the crime scene, and Bobby still couldn't get the thoughts out of his head. Ross was convinced that Declan was the guilty party.

"You got your partner back. Time to let your mentor go."

That was what his Captain had to say. Bobby followed him out, the thoughts coming faster and faster. It was down to the wire.

"Captain!" Bobby shouted, a little too loud, considering he was only ten feet away.

Ross stopped in his tracks. The car door was open and poised around his midsection like a shark about to attack. He stared at Bobby as his detective walked closer.

"Jo's already there. You said that."

Captain Ross nodded.

"When I was with Dec… he said… he said… the killer was torturing Eames… and me… and humiliating him. Captain, it wasn't Dec. It was Jo."

* * *

As he watched Jo Gage bite her nails, Bobby listened to the lecture he'd first heard Declan give twenty years ago, in CID training. "Each one has its own arc. Even so, no matter what the killer has done, there is almost invariably one element they have in common: no one has ever listened to them, to their story. So I do, I sit with them, no matter how long it takes. But I don't ask them about the crime. I ask them about their life, their childhood, their first memories, their mother's touch. Uh… dreams they had when they were a kid…"

Bobby turned down the volume on the speaker. Jo had heard this speech before, too. She'd already chewed her thumbnail down to the quick. "Don't worry, Jo. He's not gonna confess 'cause he didn't do it."

She asked how he knew and he told her about the hairs. She smiled, seemingly in relief. The smile quickly faded, and she seemed almost at the verge of tears. She quickly retrieved her jacket and tossed it over her shoulders. Bobby turned the sound back up, just in time for Declan to explain how willingly he spent hours, even days listening unconditionally to serial killers. "In the end, they feel a relief at being understood."

Bobby repeated what Declan said, and Jo stopped in the doorway. "I envy you, having a Dad like him," Bobby said quietly. It wasn't a lie. It had once been true.

Jo's hand paused on the door handle, and she turned back to Bobby. "He was more of a father to you," she said definitively, then continued, "and his killers… than he ever was to me. He wanted a son."

"He raised you on his own," Bobby said, trying to sound sympathetic to the man in the interrogation room. "How old were you when your mom—"

"Killed herself? Seven." Jo bit her lip and then smiled.

"And that's tough," Bobby said.

Jo shrugged and gave him a smile. "So was yours. He told me… about your Mom, your Dad."

Bobby's confidence fell a little. He wasn't really surprised that Dec had shared his secrets with Jo, but that didn't make it any less painful.

"You could have gone either way," she added, and although he didn't flinch, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Either way?" he asked, boiling inside.

"Certain homes, he says, are like potential labs for serial killers… or… crusading profilers."

"You know, your father and I, we just talked about this. Add in the mix…lack of empathy, and early exposure to violence."

"You just talked about this?"

"Last night. I asked him if he thought there could ever really be a true woman serial killer." Bobby watched her expression and he knew he'd hit his mark.

Her excitement was bubbling over. "Some profilers think it's just a matter of time. Take a young girl at her sexual awakening. Link her arousals to… images of violence."

"To torture them. He kidnapped them. The killer had the worktables set…" Bobby spread his hands wide, miming the placement and dimensions of the table. "… low. And then this pulley system, to lift the lightweight victim. Also: the killer never spoke to Eames and I was wondering if she was trying to hide her gender."

"What did Declan say?" Jo asked.

"Well, he called me an imbecile," Bobby said with a smile, and she chuckled. "and in that tone," he added, grinning. Jo laughed and looked at her father with affection. Bobby prodded further, knowing just where to apply the pressure. "I asked him, you know. He, he doesn't think that a woman could…could achieve those heights… or those depths, that… that men do. I remember your home. I remember all these… gruesome stacks of photos everywhere."

"I organized them for him. I catalogued his whole library."

Bobby moved in closer. "I'm sorry about…uh… I was so wrapped up in Declan's world that… I never noticed you, so, I'm sorry about that. You know, he… treated you more like an assistant than he did a daughter. Soccer games… talking about boys, well, Dec never did that for you, did he?"

She shook her head, smiling at him as the tears welled up. She couldn't believe Bobby understood. "Dinners were… still. He'd sit at the table and read Coroner reports." She paused. "We finally started to play games, where he'd give me a mutilation technique and I'd guess the serial killer."

Bobby paused a moment. He had to find a way to keep it going. "And when you brought boys home?" he asked.

"I'd play them his tapes. Of women being tortured. If they didn't run, we'd make out. In his office." She laughed, and Bobby smiled too.

"Well… you could have gone either way," Bobby said. "When you went to Quantico, was that to please him?" he asked, suddenly serious again.

She thought a moment, then replied. "He didn't notice. Not until I dropped out."

Bobby's disgust was mounting. He tried to keep it from showing, from ruining the interrogation. He knew Stan was behind him, a witness to every word she spoke. He knew he was close. He tried to keep himself from picturing Jo with Eames, the torture she'd inflicted.

"He told me he knew all along that I couldn't cut it, that I was in over my head."

"So you went to New York."

"Yeah."

"He never came to visit, did he?"

"Not unless it was a seminar." She thought a moment. "When this year's came up, I was ready."

Bobby nodded, thinking exactly how she'd prepared herself for her father's visit- by mimicking Sebastian, killing innocent women.

"He doesn't care about me. All he cares about is his reputation," Jo said. "About Sebastian." She watched her father talking to Ross in the next room.

"So you brought Sebastian back," Bobby prodded.

"I knew that if he thought it was Sebastian, we'd have something to talk about."

Bobby swallowed hard. He'd almost lost his best friend so this woman could have a conversation with her father. "You know the f-f—" His voice faltered slightly, but he recovered. "The first girl… there were hesitation marks."

"Were there?" Jo asked, surprised. Bobby nodded silently. She scoffed. "It happened so fast."

The disgust was showing on his face now, and Bobby fought to keep quiet, to let her continue to dig herself deeper.

"But it got his attention," she said.

He frowned and tilted his head the other way. Tears were welling in his eyes. Bobby's pain was for all of them: Eames, the other victims, himself, Dec, and even Jo.

"But then you were on the case and he… he totally lost interest in me." She paused a moment, remembering. "So that's when I decided… to kill Eames… and frame him."

Bobby pressed his lips together. He fought back his emotions again. She smiled at him, proud of herself for her cleverness. He damn near cried. "Jo," he said, his voice like gravel. "It's time."

She looked at her father through the glass and set her jaw. "Tell my Dad. Everything." The uniformed officer came closer, preparing the cuffs. Jo continued, speaking earnestly to Bobby. "'Cause he'll come to my cell now, and talk to me. Listen. For as long as it takes, he'll be there."

Bobby nodded as she was escorted away. A deep sigh escaped him and he only just managed to keep the tears from falling. He turned away from the Captain's gaze and stared through the glass at the man who'd taught him everything he knew.

* * *

Bobby spent the night in the chair by Alex's side. He'd gone straight to the hospital once the paperwork was done, needing desperately to tell her, to get it off his chest.

Between the medications and the exhaustion, she was unable to help him. Bobby sat beside her, silent, feeling like he was coming apart at the seams.

Seeing her like this, head bandaged, bruised, scarred, seemingly held together by tubes and wires… he chastised himself for being so selfish. _He_ had to be there for _her_ now. _He_ had to be the rock this time, and return the favor she'd so often done for him.

His own pain, his own despair… he'd have to find a way to bury it, to move past it.

As he sat listening to her heart monitor, he kept hearing those words in his head. "You could have gone either way."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She woke up several times in the night. She never once cried out, but her heart monitor blipped like crazy and Bobby could hear her panicked breaths. Each time, he spoke to her quietly, tried to reassure her that the nightmare was over. He didn't touch her, he couldn't take the chance that he would spook her even more.

Bobby's own exhaustion was starting to assert itself. At 4 a.m., he was just dozing off when the nurse ripped the curtain aside, launching both he and Alex into a panicked state.

"It's okay, Alex," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. His own heart was racing, and Alex's breath came in jagged spurts, but the nurse seemed oblivious to them both.

Bobby's anger flared, and he got to his feet, fluttering in the three feet alongside Alex's bed until the nurse finished her mundane task. He followed her out of the room.

"You… you frightened her," he called out. The woman didn't seem to get that he was addressing her. He took a long step and leaned into her personal space. "Alex, Alex Eames. She's been traumatized, you know. And that curtain… you scared her." He was raging inside, but he managed to keep his tone level. He couldn't risk offending them. He couldn't risk being sent away from her.

"Oh. Sorry," the nurse said.

It was completely unsatisfying. Bobby nodded and backed away. He clenched his fist once, twice, then headed back into Alex's room, careful to let the door latch gently and avoiding the curtain.

"Bobby?" She whispered.

"I'm here, Alex."

Her breath was still unsteady, and it took him a moment to realize she was crying.

Bobby moved closer. "I just… I spoke with that nurse," he explained. He wanted desperately to hold her hand, but instead he waved it near her arm and then dropped it at his side.

"Alex," he said quietly. "You're okay now. It's over. You're safe."

"I'm not okay," she admitted, and he felt a chill go up his spine.

_That's when I decided to kill Eames._

He couldn't restrain himself any longer. Bobby reached down and took just the tips of her fingers in his grasp. "I… I know, Alex." He rolled her fingers between his, massaging them gently. Alex quieted, and she drifted away again.

Bobby kept a grip on her fingertips and raised his left hand to scrub his weary eyes.

_But then you were on the case and he totally lost interest in me. That's when I decided to kill Eames._

Bobby stifled a sob and dropped his hand to cover his mouth. He stared at Alex through watery eyes. The guilt was overwhelming him. He bent over and dropped a kiss on her relaxed fingertips, then let go and staggered back to the chair.

Bobby kept his chin in his hand as he tried desperately to remember what it had been like before: only days before, but it seemed like a lifetime away.

Two nights before the call-out, they'd hit O'Hare's for drinks. It hadn't been anything, really, just another night out to blow off steam. He and Alex did that occasionally. They would hole up at a table in the corner, drink a few, and try to outdo each other's stories.

Only last week, it had been different. They'd had their drinks, and for some damn reason, she'd caught his hand in hers. She rubbed the scar on the back of his thumb and asked him about it.

Her touch was electric. Bobby rambled, probably about the scar though he couldn't remember a word of it now. And he'd slipped his hand down, until they were really and truly holding hands.

Alex had seemed happy about it. And when the server brought them new drinks, she'd scooted a little closer to him.

Thinking back on it now, he couldn't remember how they'd ended up in that kiss. But kiss they had, and he remembered every single sensation. Her lips, firm but still tender, closing around his upper lip. He remembered the gentle way her tongue had eased his lips open and how soft it felt against his own.

It wasn't something either of them had been able to sort out, that night. They'd shared that kiss, and they'd talked quietly, and he'd taken her home. And in the days that followed, neither of them had figured out what should happen next.

But she had been more patient with him, even when she was tired and he was running off in a direction that promised the disapproval of the Captain. Even when she'd stayed up until two a.m. watching surveillance tapes.

Now, Bobby didn't know what to do with any of it. He knew he was grateful that she hadn't been killed. That was the extent of what he knew for sure. Everything else was as uncertain as the direction of a loose feather in a windstorm.

And really? None of it mattered now. All that mattered was Alex was alive. All that mattered was that she get well. Whatever hopes and dreams he had been entertaining before the last week's hell had moved to the bottom of the priority list.

Bobby sat in the quiet morning, mind swirling until he couldn't fight sleep any longer. His head drooped, and he was asleep.

* * *

Alex awoke in a panic again. She couldn't move. In the moment before she forced her eyes open, she thought she was back in that basement.

To her surprise, it was the hospital room. She glanced around, remembering where she was and why, but it didn't relieve the panic. She still couldn't move her arms. She gasped in fear and there was Bobby, looming over her, the worry apparent in his weary face.

"It's okay, Alex, you're in the hospital, it's all over," he told her for the hundredth time.

"I know I'm in a fucking hospital!" She snarled.

Bobby backed away a step, eyes wide. He couldn't fathom what was wrong.

She struggled again, but her arms simply wouldn't move. The heart monitor betrayed the fear that continued to build in her.

"What… what is it?!" he finally asked.

Her eyes met his, wide with fear. "I can't move!" she cried.

He actually had the audacity to look relieved. Bobby smiled, and she fought back a desperate urge to knock the smile off his face. Lucky for him that she couldn't move her arms. "Your muscles," he said quietly. "You're sore. You… you overexerted yourself yesterday, and they're…" Suddenly, he was smoothing his big, warm hand over the place where her shoulder met her chest. He was very gentle, tentative.

She didn't say anything, but her heart rate slowed. He slid his hands down to her biceps, but stopped before reaching her elbow.

To her surprise, the heat of his hand unbound her muscle enough that she was able to lift her hand slightly off the bed. Alex sighed, and he slid his hands back up to her shoulder again.

He placed very little pressure there, but she grimaced. Bobby yanked his hands free, holding them up in the air. "S-sorry," he stammered.

She sighed again. "Hurt," she explained.

"You're sore," he said, nodding. "Maybe I can ask them to get you… a hot water bottle or something."

Her head bobbed slightly, and he stepped out to the nurse's station. The morning shift had begun, and Bobby saw a new face there. He asked, and she gave him a cheerful reply.

She followed him back in and assessed her patient, then left to get the requested item.

Bobby placed her fingers in his hand again, like he had in the wee hours. She looked over at him. "Thirsty," she said.

Instantly, he was preparing her drink, ripping the paper off a straw and tucking it inside the paper cup. Bobby held the cup carefully so it wouldn't spill, despite the awkward angle required for the straw to touch her lips.

She filled her mouth twice and lost interest in the drink. He replaced it on the tray table and stood out of the way when the nurse brought in the hot water bottles and laid them delicately over Alex's sore shoulders.

Alex closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Bobby, thinking she was asleep, went back to the chair.

"He… he must have, I don't know, had something wrong with him?" She said. "The pulleys…"

Suddenly Bobby realized she didn't know. In her mind, she was still trying to make sense of the clues. "It was a woman," Bobby said, and she made a sour face, but her eyes flew open again. "It… it was Jo Gage," he explained. Alex said nothing, but he could see the surprise in her expression. "We… I got her confession yesterday," he added quietly.

"Why?" she asked.

He couldn't tell her it was so the woman's father would have a conversation with her, so he buried that away and said the next honest answer he could think of.

"Because of me."

Her eyes met his for a moment, but neither of them said anything more. Alex closed her eyes again, and was asleep before they brought in the next dose of medication.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Bobby stood outside her door, leaning the length of his back against the cool wall, eyes closed and head arched upward. A familiar voice rattled him from his comfortable shell.

"How is she?"

He opened his eyes and stood up straight. "She's uh… there's a physical therapist with her now."

Logan nodded quietly and glanced around. His eyes fell on Goren again. "You look like hell."

Bobby smiled and chuckled quietly. "That's what she said."

Logan grinned, too. "Had breakfast?"

Bobby shook his head and followed his friend. He would have liked to have stayed with her, but he had no idea how long the therapy session would last, and he had been asked to leave while they worked with her.

Before long, they were sliding trays through the cafeteria line. Mike was glad to see Bobby piling his high with food. From what he heard, the man hadn't eaten much in the last week.

Mike paid for both before Bobby had a chance to protest. They walked to a table and sat down.

"Uh, thanks. Next one's on me," Bobby said.

"Sure." They ate a few bites. "How is she?" Mike asked again.

Bobby shrugged. "Tired. Sore. Traumatized."

His expression was sad as he tried to imagine Alex Eames that way. Then a small smile turned his lips. "Still, she said you look like hell. She must be in there somewhere."

Bobby smiled too. "She cursed at me this morning, too."

"Atta girl," Mike said, and they drank a toast to her. "You get any sleep?"

He squirmed and shrugged again. "Oh, you know, some."

"Goren, she's safe now. You need to get some rest."

He shook his head. "But she's not all right. I don't know who can help her when she… when she wakes up in a cold sweat…" His eyes darkened as his voice trailed away.

"Her family?" Mike suggested.

Bobby sighed. He hadn't told her family yet. He was waiting for Alex to give him the go ahead. And he was ashamed to face them, to admit his failure to protect her.

"Goren?"

"I… I, uh… haven't told them yet."

Logan stared at him. "What?"

"I haven't told them."

"Goren, she's close to her family. Every weekend she's doing something with one or the other of them, right?"

He nodded.

"And her brother's a firefighter."

Bobby nodded again.

"Word gets to him from somebody other than you or her, and there'll be hell to pay."

Bobby sighed again and hung his head.

"Look, Goren. I'm not telling you what to do. But if it were me, I'd get her family over here and go home and get two or three days of shuteye. From what I hear, you've both been through hell. You've got some recovering of your own to do."

Bobby listened and chewed on his lower lip. What Mike didn't understand was that he couldn't recover without Eames. He cleared his throat. "I'll… I'll think about it."

"I bet the Captain would be willing to call them if you don't—"

"No. I'll do it." Bobby pushed his tray away, leaving half of it uneaten.

"That's it?" Mike asked, looking at the food.

Bobby shrugged. "My eyes were bigger than my stomach."

* * *

She was angry and in pain when he returned to her room. Logan stayed a few minutes and then left her in Bobby's care. He observed her from the chair, and she screwed her eyes shut, blocking both him and the pain out of her mind.

The chair scraped against the floor as he stood, and her eyes flew open. Bobby mentally kicked himself. "Sorry," he said. "I'm gonna, go out for a few minutes."

"You're leaving?" she asked.

"Did… did you need something?"

She closed her eyes again. "No."

Bobby frowned as he stared at her again. Whatever was going on with her, she wasn't about to tell him. He turned and quietly went out the door.

"Hello, Mr. Eames?" Bobby said. "Bobby Goren, here. Uh, there's been, an… an event. And Alex is in the hospital." He listened to the man's surprised questions. "Look, I think it would be better if I could explain in… in person. No, she's not in any danger, now, but it… it was very serious. I think she needs her family."

* * *

He could see the family resemblance after he told her story. John Eames, especially, reminded him of Alex. The man was stiff with resolve, and his eyes wore the strength of steel. He turned and entered her room without a word, while Johnny and Liz sat in stunned silence.

"Poor Lexie," Liz said sadly.

Johnny glanced at his sister, but he, too, wore the same look his father'd had. He stood up and folded his arms, imagining the horrors his sister had been subjected to. Then he quietly went inside Alex's room.

Liz looked over at Bobby, and he could swear he saw a glimpse of compassion in her eyes. "You've been through the ringer, too."

He remained silent and only bent his head to look at the swirls in the marble tile at his feet.

"Why? Why did you wait two days to call us?" She asked softly.

He felt his cheeks burning. He scuffed the tip of his shoe against the floor. "When they… found her… she couldn't have visitors long… five minutes… I uh, I was still working, too… looking for the one who… and I guess I was so wrapped up in it that…"

"It's okay," she said, stopping him. "She's okay," Liz said, trying to reassure him.

"I'm sorry. I should have called sooner."

"It's okay, detective."

As she went inside, Bobby sank into a chair in the hall. His eyes remained focused on the tiles, his thoughts swirling along with the lines that curled through them. He heard Johnny come back out, and he could feel the man's eyes upon him. He knew a judgment was being passed, and Bobby couldn't bring himself to look up and face it.

"You don't have to stay," Johnny said. "We'll take care of her, now."

Bobby shut his eyes and took a long, slow breath. His head started to nod before he breathed the word. "Yeah." Sadly, he got to his feet. He looked back at the door to her room. "Tell her," he said, and then glanced hopefully at Johnny. "Tell her?"

Eames didn't really respond, but Bobby acted as if he did and walked toward the hospital exit.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Even in his own apartment, sleep eluded him. First he thought of Alex, her pain, her anger. He knew the long process she would have to endure to recover was already starting. Eames was a survivor. She would find some kind of a strategy to cope with it, to carry on. Even if that strategy was rage against him, Bobby knew she would come out the other side.

His mind wandered to the reaction of her brother, and he couldn't blame the man for how he felt. Bobby was somebody's brother, too. He imagined the strength of that connection was tenfold for a brother to his sister.

Logan was right, though. What Alex needed was family. They knew her better than anyone, he knew that. No matter how well Bobby Goren pretended to know her, he would never know just the right approach. Her family knew. It was for the best.

Inevitably, his mind replayed everything that had happened in the last week. Why not? There was no one here to stop him. Just Bobby Goren and a glass of whiskey and a slightly messy bachelor pad.

He lived it all again, from the handholding to the kiss, to the first inklings it might be Sebastian. Then he remembered Dec showing up, and Alex's efforts to cover for him with the Captain. He remembered how disappointed she was when he decided to meet with Declan. He recalled the routine goodbye when she'd left him in the AV room, just before she was taken.

Then the torture came back upon him, and he tried to push it away, but without another soul in the apartment, he couldn't distract himself. All that time, running down one lead and then another, terrified when Dec insisted Alex was dead and he needed to get into the killer's head.

God, he was going to be sick.

Bobby forced the bile back into his throat by downing the rest of the whiskey in one huge gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The body in the trunk of the car…

Bobby had to grab the counter and steady himself. He gasped for air, wondering how he had ever survived that moment.

He felt guilty for being relieved at the sight of the video clerk's dead body. Just remembering it brought the flood of relief again. Bobby was ashamed of himself.

He slammed an angry palm against the veneer of the kitchen cabinet and spun around 180 degrees. Bobby lurched to the living room, where he commenced pacing back and forth through his small living area.

God, and Dec! Bobby froze in place as he relived the conversation. They'd been in the interview room. Dec had threatened to lawyer up, and Bobby had stalled Declan's arrest. He tried to step away from his old mentor, but he'd gone back in. He'd gone back in and talked with the old man anyway.

A shiver went through him as he realized he knew exactly when Declan had cracked the case.

"_What's the timeline from last night?"_

_ "Amanda, the-the-the girl in the trunk, the first wounds were midnight to two a.m. The lethal wounds weren't until dawn."_

_ "She's in tact, no trophies!" Declan cried._

_ "Hey! Cut it out!" Bobby'd commanded, slamming the folder shut over the photograph of the girl's body. "It's that gap… to two a.m. It's when he… could have went to get Eames."_

_ Declan had worked his theory with Bobby, as if he wasn't supposed to care that his best friend was the one they were talking about. _

"…_and then… something… must have interrupted…"_

_ "My phone call. To you. I mean, that's why you never came back."_

If Bobby hadn't been 7 hours past exhaustion, if he hadn't been completely consumed with worry, he would have seen the wheels turning in Declan's head. He would have seen that the old man had figured it out. He would have seen the shift from uncovering the story to covering it up.

Instead, he'd thought only of Alex. He realized Declan knew something, but he'd completely missed the mark. He'd slammed Dec against the wall, demanding to know where Eames was, and then the blank look in Gage's eyes had told him the truth: he didn't know.

Bobby knocked the side of his head against the moulding of the doorframe. It hurt, and that felt good. He did it again. Then he slid into a heap on the floor, half in and half out of his bedroom.

Bobby grasped the sore place on his head and knotted his fingers into his short hair. His chest heaved, and he fell apart.

He'd failed her. At the moment she needed him most, he'd been as blind as a bat.

* * *

"Lex?"

"What."

"You've got to eat something. Can't live off that tube in your arm," Johnny said.

"'s been fine til now," she grumbled.

"C'mon now, aren't you hungry?" Johnny coaxed.

Alex's anger got the best of her. "No! No, damn it, I'm not hungry!" she shouted.

Her outburst was met with silence. After what seemed like an eternity, her brother shifted his feet. "Okay."

Alex's face contorted, and she cried.

Johnny's hand was on her arm, and he whined, "C'mon, Lexie, don't."

His hand aggravated her sore muscles, and gave her the distraction she needed to stop the bawling. She sniffled and held her breath until she'd managed to regain control. "You… you don't know," was all she told him.

"So tell me," Johnny said, but his sister just turned her face away.

* * *

Bobby had almost pulled himself together when the answering machine kicked on. He heard the long beep and the last voice he wanted to hear was amplified in his apartment. The man actually sounded excited.

"Bobby, I've been talking to Jo. It's fascinating! The pieces were all there, and I never gave her a second thought! You know, the pieces were there for you, too. All the elements were there. You could have gone either way. I told her that once." Declan chuckled. "I suppose we never see the forest for the trees, hey Bobby? Oh, uh, anyway. Give my condolences to your partner...or perhaps congratulations are more appropriate..."

The grief on his face turned rapidly to anger. Bobby heaved himself to his feet and made it to the answering machine in two strides. He ripped the thing right out of the wall and dropped it to the floor with a satisfying crunch.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

His phone rang at six a.m. Goren snatched it up from the nightstand. "Goren," he said quickly, expecting a call out.

"Goren, it's John Eames."

"Mr. Eames? Is she okay?"

"About the same. She's asking for you."

"Uh, I, uh… I was sleeping. Tell her I'll be there as quick as I can."

"I'll tell her."

"Thank you, sir," Bobby sputtered. He was grateful the man had called him. He rushed around, getting dressed and grabbing the things he would need. He combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and grabbed his wallet.

* * *

"Dad."

"What is it, honey?" the old man said from his perch on the chair.

"Tell them my head hurts."

He gave her a wary look, but got to his feet. "All right. I'll tell them." He stepped out of the room and to the nurse's station. Bobby saw him just before he leaned over to get the nurse's attention.

"Mr. Eames!" Bobby called out.

John gave him an unconvincing smile. "Goren," he said, and held out his hand for a shake.

Bobby shook his hand, his eyes searching her father's, wanting to know the latest.

"She asked me to tell them her head hurts. I don't know…"

"She's… avoiding? Trying to escape?"

John shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe her head hurts. I don't know."

Bobby frowned and patted the man's arm before he quietly opened the door to her room.

"What'd they say, Dad?" She asked, before turning and seeing it was her partner. "Oh."

"Hello, Eames," he said, offering her a smile.

"Hi, Bobby. I thought you were my Dad."

"I just saw him in the corridor."

"My head hurts."

"Yeah, he told me." Bobby looked her over, and raised a finger to delicately touch the skin near the bandage on her head. "That bad?"

"Between that and the rest, the damn thing's pounding."

"The rest?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I don't want to cry any more, Bobby."

He nodded and looked at his shoes. After a moment, he looked back. "Your Dad, he… he said you asked for me?"

She lifted her hand, and he was relieved to see that she'd moved much more easily than yesterday. Bobby reached down and took her hand, careful not to touch her bandaged wrists.

She squeezed his hand until the nurse came in, but never said a word in explanation. Bobby offered the only comfort he could, and then stepped out of the way while the nurse checked her vitals.

"My head," Alex said.

"I know," the nurse replied. "Let me check this, and then I'll call your doctor."

"Can't you just give me that medicine?"

"The doctor ordered some for you, but we weren't supposed to administer it until later."

Alex sighed.

The nurse removed the blood pressure cuff and replaced everything in its rightful place. "I'll check with your doctor and come right back."

Alex closed her eyes and nodded slightly, clearly unhappy that she had to wait. Her father came back in the room as Bobby replaced his hand around hers.

"What's the word?" John Eames asked.

"Hurry up and wait," Alex grumbled. She finally let her eyes fall on her partner. "You look like hell," she told him, and he laughed. "What's so funny?"

"You keep telling me that."

"I do?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's true. When was the last time you slept?"

"I slept last night."

"How long."

"I don't know."

"Exactly." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh, my head!" she complained.

Bobby stroked her hand gently with his fingers.

"Your face looks puffy," she continued, after opening her eyes again.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, you know…"

John Eames walked a few steps away and sat down in the visitor's chair.

"You've been crying, too."

Bobby shifted awkwardly, unwilling to speak of it in front of her father. "I just… need more sleep, that's all," he said quietly.

"They told me that's what you were doing… last night."

He shrugged. "I tried."

Alex squeezed his hand and stared into his eyes.

She was right, of course. But she was also well aware that her father was in the room. She closed her eyes again, furrowing her brow until the nurse returned.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Eames. The doctor insists that you get nothing more than a mild analgesic until this afternoon."

Alex's jaw jutted out in anger. The nurse picked up her water from the tray table and handed her a small paper cup with two pills in it. Stiffly, Alex put the pills in her mouth and drank from the straw.

The nurse instructed her to let her know if she needed anything else and left the room again.

"Don't fret about it, Alexandra," John Eames spoke.

Bobby saw her cheeks burn with anger. "How the hell does he know anything? She called him on the phone, for Christ's sake!" Alex raged.

Bobby kept a firm grip on her hand and tried to soothe her. "Give it time, maybe the pills will help."

She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him.

Goren spared a glance in her father's direction, and they were both thinking the same thing. The doctor was right not to give her the potent stuff. She was trying to escape her problems. She was very vulnerable to addiction right now.

"Look, I think I'll go find a good cup of coffee or something," Bobby said, feeling his presence wasn't doing a thing for her. Immediately, she tightened her grip on his hand. He searched her face, but she didn't move, and she didn't explain. Bobby threw her father a helpless glance.

"No, don't bother, I'll go get a coffee for both of us," John volunteered. He got up and gave his daughter a quick look before he pulled the door open and wandered down the hall.

"Alex, what is it?" Bobby asked, urgency in his voice. "You want me here, but there doesn't seem to be anything I can do."

"Don't leave," she pleaded.

"I… I'm not," he said. "I just… don't understand how I can help."

"That doctor thinks I'm trying to abuse the drugs," she said. Without even turning his way, she added, "You think so, too."

Bobby exhaled heavily. "I think you've got a good reason to want to escape." She squeezed his hand again, and finally turned toward him. "Alex, I'm here for you. As long as you want me, I'm here."

"I can't tell them, Bobby. My family."

He nodded. "It's too…"

"Yeah."

"You're the only one, who knows…everything."

Sadness passed over his face, and he looked away, trying to keep the emotions from erupting again. "And you…" he huffed, "wonder why I didn't sleep."

She squeezed his hand again and stared at the day's growth of beard he had. "I can't stop thinking about her… Amanda… Not more than a few minutes, anyway." She knitted her brow again and sighed. "I don't want to cry anymore, Bobby, I can't stand it."

Now he squeezed her hand. "I know what you mean."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Thankfully, the morning had passed quickly. The hospital staff decided to move Alex out of intensive care and so there was much to distract her from her troubles.

Once in the new room, Bobby stood by the window and described the details outside that she couldn't see. Her sister arrived before lunch, providing yet another distraction. After lunch came the long awaited medication, which had the side effect of making her sleepy.

Liz and John senior went to get something to eat, leaving Bobby with Alex. Before long, he was asleep in the chair, head propped against his hand, which was pinned between the arm of the chair and the backrest.

The Eames family gathered in the hall outside her room. Both Alex and Bobby were visible through a window to the hall.

Johnny saw Bobby and stiffened. "Why is he here?"

"She asked for him," Liz explained, keeping her voice soft.

Johnny didn't try to hide his displeasure.

"Johnny," his father warned, "No matter how you feel about it… she's been better since he's been here. Set your feelings aside. We have to do what's right for Alex."

The younger man frowned and folded his arms. "She's been better?" he asked, finally.

"She hasn't been as angry," Liz said. "Or as weepy."

"And she stopped complaining about her aches and pains every five minutes," John senior added.

Johnny looked back and forth between his sister and his father, wondering if he should share what was on his mind. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked them, uncomfortable in the bustling hallway.

"There's a waiting room, over here," his Dad pointed. The group moved down the hall. His father and Liz sat on the couch, and Johnny pulled a chair close to them.

"I asked around… I found out… more… about what happened." His family looked at him expectantly, braced for whatever horror he might reveal.

"They thought it was a serial killer… named Sebastian. He was known for torturing and sexually abusing his victims before brutally killing them." He shared a few of the details he knew, and Liz held her hand over her mouth. "The one who got Alex was a copycat. Alex is… is lucky she's still alive. The other victims…" He paused. He knew Liz and his father were having a hard time hearing it. At last, Johnny shared the details he knew of how Jo had maimed and killed the others, and how Alex had listened while Amanda's life had been stripped away.

"My God," Liz gasped.

Their father sat stone still. His lips were pressed tight together, but he showed no other signs of disturbance.

"Dad?" Johnny asked after a long silence.

"We have to do what's right for Alex," was all he said.

* * *

For the first time, she awoke without fear. Alex blinked and attempted a stretch before pain cut it short. She saw Bobby's sleeping form twisted uncomfortably in the chair, and her heart ached for him.

With some effort, she raised up on one elbow and reached for the remote that controlled the bed. The motor whirred and she fell back as the mattress rose, elevating her head.

He was up and alert at once. Bobby stood by until she clicked the motion to a stop. He reached back and adjusted her pillow for her. His eyes asked, and she nodded. Yes. It was good.

"You're tired," she told him.

Bobby gave her a crooked grin. "At least I don't look like hell anymore."

Alex smiled too, for a moment. "Bobby, I want you to go home tonight. Get some rest."

His expression sobered. To be honest, he wasn't sure how he felt about that. And last night had proven that being home wasn't any guarantee of rest. Before he had the chance to reply, the door opened and Liz came in, followed by the others. They exchanged cheerful greetings. Bobby went to stand by the window.

* * *

He didn't go straight home. He managed to eat a light meal, and before long found himself in a jewelry shop just off the main drag. He stuck his hands in his pockets and meandered around, half looking in the cases and equally distracted by the glitter and shine that seemed to pop at him from everywhere in the room.

"Can I help you?" The shopkeeper was Indian, and wore an oxford shirt buttoned all the way to the collar. Bobby unconsciously rubbed the nape of his neck before he answered.

"I, uh… I have a friend. She's in the hospital. I wanted to get her something… maybe religious? A cross or something?"

The man nodded and hurried over to a case by the far wall. Bobby took a few steps and joined him. He scanned the items in the case and pointed to a Greek cross in the back. When the man pulled it out, he took it out of the box and examined the length of the chain. Bobby held it to the neck of the partial mannequin that sat on the glass. Satisfied, he nodded. He handed it to the Indian man and watched as he wiped it down and replaced it in the box. As the man placed it in a bag, Bobby pulled out his wallet.

* * *

Goren opened the door and didn't have to stoop to look at his guest. "Logan."

"Hey, I was in the neighborhood. How is she today?" he asked, following Bobby into his apartment. He passed to shut the door behind him.

"I guess every day she gets a little better," Bobby said. "They moved her out of the ICU."

"Fantastic." Logan glanced around, noticing the evidence of Bobby's meltdown the night before. There was an untidy mess of books on the hall floor, and the broken answering machine was peeking out of the top of the trash can.

Bobby offered him a beer.

"Sure, thanks," Logan said, twisting off the cap of the bottle and taking a swig. "Everything okay here?" he asked, eyeing the hall again.

"Yeah, sure." Bobby's eyes followed Logan's and he realized he needed to explain. "That… that was yesterday."

"Cap wanted me to ask you, uh… how much time you need."

Bobby cocked his head and seemed perplexed.

"We've picked up a little, and with both of you out, you know…"

"Tell him I don't know."

"Will do."

Logan pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down, taking another swig of his beer. Bobby sat down across from him. "They're giving me a new partner."

"Lucky you."

"Thrilled, I tell you." Bobby popped the cap off his own beer and took a sip, waiting for Logan to continue. "Her name's Wheeler. She looks like a kid."

"Yeah, I think I saw her, last week or something?"

Logan nodded. "She came in for the introductions, the orientation session."

"I guess I haven't got enough tenure for a more experienced partner."

"Or maybe Ross trusts you to bring her up to speed."

Mike scoffed. "Yeah, that'll be the day."

Bobby raised his bottle again and shrugged. "Just trying to put a positive spin on it."

The other man finished his beer, making easy conversation about office politics. At last, he scooted the chair out and stood. "I've gotta get going. Look, Goren, uh… keep me posted on Eames."

"Sure, Logan. Good luck with Wheeler," he said.

After Mike left, Bobby took the box out of the bag and studied the necklace again. Pleased with his purchase, he closed the top of the little box and headed to his room, stepping over the mess of books in the hallway.

For the first time in over a week, Bobby Goren slept all night.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Once the medication had worn off, Alex had experienced a bad night. She awoke repeatedly from nightmares, and got very little sleep. Her brother Johnny had come in early, only to be snapped and snarled at.

He was grateful when Goren showed up. He made an excuse about breakfast and left the room.

"Good morning," Bobby said to her quietly.

She bit back her sarcastic reply and only stared at him. "You look better," she said.

Bobby smiled. "A real improvement!" He took her fingers in his hand. "Rough night?" he asked.

Alex nodded. "It's hard to… to sleep without the… you know."

"I, uh… I got you something, maybe it will help."

She perked up. Bobby pulled the small box from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. To his delight, she took it in both of her hands, setting it on her lap to open it. She was moving much more easily, now.

"Bobby," she breathed.

"I know… I know your faith is important to you. And I… Alex, I have faith in you, that you'll come through this. Maybe this can help you remember that."

She tried to raise her hand to his face, but the agonizing pain in her shoulder stopped her short. Bobby leaned down, and she bent her elbows, taking his face in her hands.

She was touched by his thoughtfulness, and he was overwhelmed by her tenderness. Bobby touched his lips to hers and drew back up. He took the necklace out of the box and with some effort from Alex, they got it on her neck. She held his hand, and suddenly what they'd shared before her abduction didn't seem so far away.

"Johnny's here," Bobby noted, trying to make conversation.

Alex sighed.

"What?"

"I bit his head off."

Bobby gave her a smile. "He can take it." For a moment, they were quiet. Bobby's fingers gently massaged her hand. There was a knock at the door, and her brother peeked in.

"Lex?" he said.

Alex nodded.

Bobby saw the same stiffness he'd noticed yesterday. Johnny most certainly held a grudge against him.

"I'm sorry, Johnny," Alex said.

"Sorry? For what?" Johnny replied.

Alex rolled her eyes and looked at him with affection. Bobby let go her hand and went to sit in the chair by the window.

* * *

"You're looking better," Captain Ross said.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Eames, I've had a meeting with the Chief. He reviewed the whole scenario, and… you're going to have to be cleared by a department shrink before you can return."

Alex was less than pleased.

"You've been through a major trauma. There's no shame in getting some help. Even the strongest person would benefit from a little therapy after something like this. We've got some very good people. Skoda, Huang, Olivet, Gyson…"

"When do I have to start?"

"As soon as you can. Here's a list, you can see any of them." He set the list on the table beside her bed. "I suppose Goren told you the rest."

"About Jo Gage?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad Bobby caught her," Alex said, knowing full well her boss had helped and not wanting to give him any credit.

Ross smiled politely. "Speedy recovery, Detective. I'll be in touch." She gave him a polite goodbye and he was on his way.

Bobby knocked as he entered, wondering what had just transpired. Alex jerked her head toward the paper on the table, and he looked it over. "Therapy… it's a good idea," he said with a nod.

"You go, then."

He looked up in alarm before realizing it was just a snarky comment and not a real suggestion. Bobby's eye flitted around the room. "Maybe, I'll go with you, if you want. You know, drop you off, pick you up."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "In case you… you have things on your mind. You won't have to worry about driving."

She sighed and shut her eyes.

"You're still tired," he said.

"I'm tired, all right. I'm tired of hurting, of being stuck in this damn bed, in this damn room, in this damn hospital!"

Bobby almost folded his arms, but he worried she might read that as closing her off. At the last second, he dropped his hands and stuffed them in his pockets.

"I guess… I just have to get used to the idea… life is pain."

Her words sent a jolt right through him. "Alex, no…"

"Don't tell me no!" she cried. "This is never going to go away, Bobby! I heard that poor girl screaming! I heard her die!"

He pushed his fists into his pockets until he could feel the fabric straining against the pressure. His own guilt reared its ugly head, and he could think of nothing that might comfort her. He thought about her words. He'd always thought that was something unique to him, to his life. Maybe she was right. Life was pain.

Alex saw his eyes darken, and she looked away, still burning with her own anger but very aware of the effect her words had on him. It only reinforced the notion in her mind. Life was pain. Bobby was living proof.

The door swung open and her father walked in. "How's my girl this evening?" he asked her.

Bobby spun and marched away from the bed, using the interruption as an excuse to stare out the window. Liz followed soon after her father. Alex shoved her anger aside and tried to be civil to her family. Her sister noticed the necklace right away.

"That's nice," she said, touching her own necklace. "Where'd you get it?"

Alex forced herself not to look at him. "A friend," she said.

"That's a good friend," Liz replied. "Alex, have you talked to anyone yet? I can ask the hospital staff. I know there are priests who make the rounds."

"No," Alex said.

"No, you haven't? Or no you don't want to?"

"Both."

"Alex, you can't carry all of this yourself. Maybe a little spiritual guidance would do you some good." John Eames came closer, touched Liz's arms, and gave her a short shake of the head. "Sorry," Liz said quickly, realizing she was pushing too hard.

"Sorry?" Alex asked, suspicious.

"You've been through so much. I don't mean to try and—"

"Oh, God, Liz! Don't pity me. I don't want your pity."

Liz looked desperately at her father.

"Now, Alex," John said. "Your sister, well, all of us, really… we hate to see you like this. You can't blame her for wanting to help."

The tears started to spring up, and Alex shoved them back by bringing her anger to the surface. "You can't fix this. There is no fricking bandaid that will make me the way I was. It happened and it didn't kill me and I guess we all just have to try and move on."

Bobby came back to her bedside. He stared into her eyes, and put his hand over hers. Just his presence seemed to calm her a little.

"Look, I just want to be alone," Alex muttered. Her father and Liz glanced uncomfortably at each other, and Bobby started to pull away, but she held him firm. "Not you, Bobby. I just only want you." Alex saw the strained look on her Dad's face, and it made her mad. "Sorry, Dad," she snapped. "Liz." The two stepped outside into the hall, but made no attempt to leave.

Bobby held her hand, but said nothing. He knew all too well what Alex was like when she was angry and tired. Even the nicest of words would be likely to set her off. He rubbed her hand and after a time, she drifted into sleep.

He used the time to go outside and try to talk to her family. Johnny was with them now, too, and he was none too happy with Alex sending them out. He stood with his arm around Liz, who was leaning against his shoulder for comfort. John senior stood by with his arms folded.

Bobby's nerves were shot. His stutter reappeared. "S-s-sorry. She's just, you know, tired and grumpy."

Alex's father dropped his hands and offered Bobby an encouraging smile. "We're just glad she has _someone_ she trusts."

Disgusted, Johnny let go of his sister and marched away. Bobby threw the others concerned glances and then followed him.

Eames was quite a bit shorter than Bobby, but very strong. He heard the big man's footsteps behind him and spun around, coming to a halt. Johnny jerked his hand, pointing at a vending room nearby. Goren followed him in.

"Y-you're angry... with me," Bobby said.

"How the hell could you let this happen to her?!" Eames demanded.

Bobby wasn't surprised by the question. He'd known all along what was eating at her brother. What surprised him was how very much Johnny Eames was like his partner. He didn't beat around the bush. Bobby looked the man straight in the eye. "I've been asking myself the same thing."

Dissatisfied, Johnny pivoted and slammed his hand against the vending machine. A loud smack reverberated through the room.

Bobby stood his ground, and waited for the rest, just the same as he would do with Alex.

Johnny's hand was still against the machine, and he rested his head against his upper arm. "You're supposed to have her back."

Nodding, Bobby sank down to the floor and set his elbows against his knees. His hands were folded against his mouth. He paled, thinking about it. "It was just like any other investigation, at first… only m-more frustrating. We were both r-running after scraps, and the b-bodies kept coming."

"You know what?" Johnny said, earning a glance from Goren. "Don't. Stop." He was turned towards Bobby now. He shook his head sadly. "Lexie loves her job, she always has. I've always been proud of her, you know? If you tell me, like this… I don't think I could… it would change everything."

Bobby blinked six times, and then scrubbed his face with his hand.

"Look, Goren, I'm sorry. You and my sister, you've been partners a long time. I know you did your best. Hell, you wouldn't be here if you didn't care about her. I guess I… just needed someone to blame." Johnny shuffled his feet a moment, then repeated. "I'm sorry." Then he quickly stepped past him and out of the room.

Bobby sat on the floor, tears filling his eyes once more as he fought with his own terrible sense of guilt. If it had been anyone other than Jo, than Dec… maybe he would have picked up the clues faster, sooner. Maybe he could have prevented it.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

He stayed away for hours, trying to give her family the time they needed. Bobby ate dinner and roamed the streets a while, wondering what the future held for him and for Alex.

When he got back, Liz had already taken her father home, and Johnny sat by her side. When Alex turned her head, and her eyes met his, Bobby felt a pang in his heart. He loved her.

Bobby licked his lips and stepped closer. "I, uh… I'm planning to stay the night," he said, then looked at Alex. "If you want me to, that is."

Alex scrutinized him. She could see he was more rested than yesterday, and honestly, she didn't want to face another long bout of night terrors with no one but the nursing staff to comfort her. "I'd like that," she said quietly.

Alex saw that whatever tension had been between her brother and her partner seemed to have passed. Johnny offered her a sweet smile and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, sis."

Bobby shook his hand awkwardly and turned back to Alex, who was watching Johnny leave. He raised a hand and gently brushed the stray hairs back away from her face. She still wore the bandage around her head. It didn't allow for much grooming.

"Thanks, Bobby," Alex said.

He chuckled. "It's as much for me as for you," he admitted. He smiled as he felt her hand on his forearm.

* * *

Two more days passed. Alex was up and walking. She was able to use her arms well as long as she didn't try to raise them from the shoulders. The days were much better, but the nights continued to be difficult.

They were waiting for her discharge paperwork. Alex had asked her family to leave her in Bobby's care, and reluctantly, they had.

"Bobby, will you… stay with me?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, without hesitation. He'd been there for her, two nights straight. The pain medicine had been cancelled. She had nothing now to help her sleep. "Your Dad, he… got your place cleaned. Liz helped, too. Except for Polly, it should feel like home again."

She nodded sadly.

"Did you wanna… go there? I mean, if it's too soon or something…"

"Yeah. I want to go home."

The forms came in, and the nurse went over the doctor's orders, and after she signed them, they were free. Bobby put everything in the duffel bag her sister had sent, and then he held her hand as they walked from the room to the elevator, and then out the door to the parking lot. He drove her home.

Alex hesitated at her door. She'd already turned the key, but couldn't bring herself to open the door. Bobby put his hand gently against her back. "I'm here, Alex. I'm with you."

Finally, she opened it and stepped inside. He followed, dropping her bag on the floor, closing the door and locking it tight. She was staring at the place where Polly's cage had been. "She was a good bird," Alex said. "It's a shame."

He nodded silently as she grieved the loss of her pet. Finally, she made her way to the couch and sat down. Bobby sat on the edge of the seat beside her. "You okay?"

"I don't remember much. I came in the door and noticed Polly was quiet, missing, and that's it." Alex raised her hand to the bandage around her head. She began to tug at it, and Bobby helped her take it off. She felt the area with her fingers. Then she started to comb her hair with her fingers. Bobby went back to her bedroom and found her comb. When he came back he held it up, offering to help her. Alex turned her back to him and he carefully combed her hair, using his other hand to keep from pulling it, and avoiding the area next to her stitches. Finished, she leaned back against him. Bobby put his arms around her, loosely holding her.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered.

Bobby kissed her cheek. He had so much that he was glad for.

Finally, she started dozing in his arms. She woke up enough for him to speak to her. "You'll want to go to bed," he suggested.

"Mmm-mmm."

"Huh?"

She answered by snuggling closer to him. He squeezed her gently. "Alex, you can't sleep like this all night."

"Come with me," she said.

Bobby paused in thought. At last he nodded. "Okay." He helped her to her room, and out of her clothes. The t-shirt was the hardest for her to manage. He had to raise her arms for her to get them out of the sleeves, and this brought on a panic from the memories. Just in her bra and jeans, he looked away. Bobby rooted through her drawers, but everything seemed to be the kind of thing she'd have to pull over her head. He went to the closet and got a button down shirt out.

Bobby turned to her and held it up, offering.

"I'll just sleep like this," she said, shaking her head. She unfastened her pants, but was unable to get them down all the way. He stepped closer, squatted, and helped her. Alex climbed into the bed in her underwear.

Bobby took off his jeans, but left his t-shirt on. He climbed into the bed with her, trying hard to repress the desire that was building at seeing her like this.

"Bobby, hold me," she said quietly.

He turned and carefully put his arm over her torso.

"Thanks."

He smiled. "Anytime." He listened as her breathing became deeper and more even. Bobby kissed the back of her head.

* * *

By the wee hours, she'd woken 7 times. He held her again, and coaxed her though it again. This time, though, she didn't relax against him. This time, Alex cried. He gathered her into his arms until she was lying with her face against his chest. She sobbed, and he let her. She finally quieted, and she shivered. Bobby helped her lie down again and tucked the blanket over her carefully. They stared into each other's eyes. He kissed her forehead, and was surprised to feel her hands against his cheeks. Bobby followed Alex's lead. She drew him into a kiss, which lingered.

As he was lost in the pleasure of it, Alex's hand found his. She brought it up and laid it against the mound of her breast. Bobby froze, and pulled away from her kiss.

"Please," Alex whispered, replacing his hand at her breast.

"Alex, no. You're just looking for…"

"Bobby, I need you. I love you. I just want to feel normal again."

"I love you, too. And I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll let you know if it hurts."

"I'm not talking about physically."

Her tears sprang up again, and they rolled off her face as the anger erupted. "If you're not going to help me, then go! I don't need you here!"

The pain was evident in his face. "If that's what you want," he said quietly. "But Alex, your emotions are all over the place right now. T-try and… take a step back. I don't think this is how you want it to be."

She folded her arms over her chest. "Nothing is how I want it to be. Nothing will ever be how I want it to be."

Bobby nodded. "I don't want to leave you, Alex. I just don't think we should… go too far, too fast."

Alex didn't reply. She laid back down against her pillow, hugging herself, and cried.

Bobby felt the pain, too, but he didn't move. He stayed by her side as she cried herself to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Three nights later, it happened. He'd been resisting her, offering love and care and support every way he could think, and turning down the heat whenever she wanted more.

That night, nearly two weeks since her abduction, Bobby was lost in his own personal hell.

He'd called his mother.

* * *

"You've abandoned me."

"I didn't abandon you, Ma."

"I'm sick, Bobby. I have no one to take care of me."

"You're sick? Did you tell the staff about… about your symptoms?"

"They don't believe me. They think I'm crazy, remember?"

"Ma, I don't like it when you talk like that."

"You're the one who told them, Bobby. They all think I'm delusional."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Sometimes she was delusional. The conversation, however was going nowhere. He had to get her to tell him more. "Ma, what's wrong?"

"Everything hurts, Bobby. I don't even want to move."

"Everything, what, like aching?"

"Exactly."

"Anything else?"

"Diarrhea. And just the thought of eating makes me want to vomit."

"Sounds like the flu, Ma. You should tell them. Do you- do you have a fever?"

"I don't know. You should come out here, Bobby. I need your help."

"Ma, I… I can't."

"It's that damn job of yours."

"N-no, not exactly." Shit! Bobby couldn't believe he'd said that. Now how was he supposed to tell his mother that he chose Eames over her?

"You're sick of me. You're going to leave me here to rot."

"Ma!"

"You're just like your father."

"All right, Ma, what do you want me to do?!"

"I need you, Bobby. I need you to come and help me."

He paced and spun in a circle, his eyes falling upon Eames. "I c-can't do that right now. I can't tell you why. Look, Ma. I'll talk to the staff there. I'll tell them to check you over, see if you've got the flu or something."

She hung up on him. Bobby pushed the end button on his phone and dug his fingers deep into his hair.

* * *

After the call to Carmel Ridge, he was assured there was nothing physically wrong that they could see. She had no fever, and the symptoms seemed to be stemming from her overactive imagination. They'd verified that she'd had diarrhea, but that could have been a side effect of her medications. He'd left his mother in their capable hands, and tried to figure out how to get the conversation out of his head. Alex had already had her first therapy session with Olivet, and her first physical therapy was scheduled for tomorrow. Ross was nagging him to come back to work, but he couldn't leave her now, she needed him. He'd put the Captain off until Monday. That would give him a few more days and nights with Alex. Then maybe he could work something out with her family when she needed a little more help.

They'd fallen into the routine of snuggling together in the bed at night. He would sit with his back against the headboard, and Alex would rest her head against his chest, and they would talk.

She'd shared some of her insights from her therapy session, and then they'd ended up caressing each other. She kissed him, and he forgot himself. Bobby's hands ended up in all the places she'd been begging him to touch. When he'd finally tried to stop, he was too far gone. One touch from Alex, and he was lost again.

* * *

The morning after, he was consumed with worry. "What is it?" she asked him, pulling on the flannel button down she'd taken to wearing around the house. It didn't require her to raise her arms very high to put on.

Bobby sighed, trying to shove aside all the things that were plaguing his mind. "I love you, Alex."

She gave him that half-smile, the one she'd been using ever since the abduction. She couldn't allow herself to truly be happy. Half-happy was as far as Alex could go. "I love you, too."

He shook his head. "I just… you're, you're in charge here. You call the shots."

"Are you worried about last night?" she asked, and he only stared back at her. "God, Bobby, last night was great! Exactly what I needed."

"I don't want to force myself on you."

"You didn't." She touched his cheek with her fingers and he finally smiled a little.

"Go out for breakfast?" he suggested.

Quietly, she nodded.

* * *

She was in a foul mood after therapy. They'd only remeasured her range of motion and done a few exercises, but it had hurt. A lot. And the therapist had told her to lose the flannel shirt, too. He said that she needed to dress as she always had, and that her body would heal more quickly if she challenged herself rather than modifying to make things easier.

Bobby was on the phone again, pacing in the kitchen. From the aggravated and almost whiny tone of his voice, she assumed it was his mother.

"What else?" he demanded. As the other party spoke, he scribbled furious notes on a paper. "Yeah. Yeah, Ma, I will. I'll call them. No, I can't come out. I told you why. It's just… not a good time for me."

His eyes met Alex's as he said that. Bobby suffered through more accusations of abandonment, more frantic complaining of aches and pains, and another comparison to his father. He finally managed to end the call in some kind of a truce.

"You can go," Alex told him. "You don't have to be with me every minute."

He held his breath a minute and then let it out in a heavy sigh. Tossing the phone on the table, he came in and joined her in the living room. "I need to talk to you about that," he said. "Ross wants me back at the squad Monday morning."

Alex nodded, but he caught the flicker of panic that flashed across her face.

He held out his hand for hers. "I'll still be here for you. Chauffer to your appointments… I'll stay with you at night."

Alex chewed on her lower lip. "It's okay," she lied. "We knew it was coming. Maybe I'll go back soon, too."

He frowned at her.

"I said maybe! I don't know when Olivet will think I'm ready."

"Take your time, Alex," he warned. "Besides, your shoulders haven't healed yet."

This was undeniable. Alex knew she'd never be able to work until she had her full range of motion back. She nodded at him. "What's going on with your Mom?" she asked. It was beyond what they normally did, but they were more than partners, now, and she thought maybe the boundaries had changed.

He struggled with a response. Alex had never really asked before, and he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her. He felt her hand in his, and thought about the night before. "She, uh… she thinks she's sick. She thinks the staff there doesn't care. She thinks I've, uh… abandoned her."

"Bobby, you have to go see her."

"It's all in her head," he said. "I called them, they examined her. There's nothing wrong, beyond her mental illness."

"But Bobby, she's asking for you. You should go."

"I'd rather be here with you." It was almost a whisper, and he barely registered that he'd said it aloud.

Alex squeezed his hand until he looked her in the eyes again. "I'll call my Dad or somebody. I'll be okay. Go see her. Tomorrow."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"I don't know why you bothered to make the trip."

"Ma, I was worried about you."

"They say I'm fine. No reason for you to drive all the way up here."

Bobby studied her carefully. She did look like she was experiencing some kind of pain. "You're still achy?"

"What do you care?"

"I care, Ma! I care." His voice was stern. He was tired of her games.

"Yes, achy," she finally answered.

Bobby stepped forward and placed his hand on her forehead. "You don't feel feverish."

"You think I'm lying, too."

"No! Ma, I didn't say you're lying. I just don't know why you would feel that way if you're not sick."

"I'm probably dying and these people are too stupid to realize it."

He made a sour face. "Ma. You're not dying."

"And what's kept you away so long? You said it wasn't work."

He broke into a sweat. Of course she would remember that. "My, uh… my partner and I… we had a particularly bad case recently. She was, uh, abducted."

"She's missing? Dear God, Bobby! Go find her!"

He grinned slightly, glad to hear her compassion. "It's okay, Ma, we found her."

"There's more you're not telling me."

He nodded. "A lot more."

The room filled with a heavy silence, broken by the rumble of Bobby's voice. "She was hurt, and traumatized, and I… I've been helping her… recover."

"You'll never change your selfish ways."

"Ma! I just told you I'm taking care of her."

"You're sleeping with her, aren't you?"

"Ma!"

"No wonder you didn't have time for your sick mother."

Bobby wanted to cry out, to tell her the horrors Eames had suffered, but he stopped himself. His mother couldn't handle that. It would surely send her off the deep end.

"I'm here now, Ma."

"I'm going to be sick." She got up and hurried to the bathroom, and Bobby heard her gag and vomit. His own worry grew, and he scratched his head. He went out in the hall to find one of the nurses.

Bobby told her of his mother's complaints, that she'd gotten sick.

"Was she upset? Sometimes she does that when she's upset."

With a regretful look, he nodded. He went back to his mother's room and found her back in her bed. "I thought you'd gone back to the city," she said.

"No, Ma. I'm here for you today."

* * *

When Bobby arrived at Alex's place that night, he felt completely drained. She had complained of symptoms all day. She'd barely eaten. And the staff continued to assure him that it was all in her head.

And his mother had managed to prickle his every nerve with comments that ranged from how he was failing her as a son to how he should take a lesson from his brother on how to be successful in life.

He used his key to let himself in. He'd called her when he left Carmel Ridge, so she wouldn't be frightened by his arrival, but they'd both agreed it would be better for him to come in rather than spook her by knocking.

Johnny was on her couch, but Alex was nowhere in sight. "Hey," Johnny said in greeting.

"Is she all right?" Bobby asked. Alex hadn't mentioned anyone was with her.

"She had a bad day," Johnny said.

Bobby sighed. "Well, uh, thanks for staying."

Johnny didn't make a move to leave. He stared at Bobby. "You've been staying here every night?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. She asked me to." He could see the burst of anger that coursed through Alex's brother.

Johnny got up and walked all the way over to Bobby. He got very close, too close, and said "If you're taking advantage, I swear to God, you'll regret it."

"I'm not t-taking advantage," Bobby said, aggravated that his stutter had worked its way in. It made him sound like a liar.

Johnny gave him a smoldering look before grabbing a jacket and heading out the door. Bobby locked it after him and let his forehead bump against the wood.

"Are you all right?" Alex asked him.

He turned and couldn't manage a smile. "I'm okay, I guess," he said.

Alex frowned at him. She could tell. "It didn't go well."

"It was hard. Tiring." Bobby took off his shoes and moved closer. "Johnny said you had a bad day."

Alex shrugged, another milestone as her shoulders healed. "It wasn't great," she admitted.

Bobby opened his arms and she leaned into his embrace. "What happened?" he asked.

"It started when I put my shirt on, and it all went downhill from there."

He rubbed his hands up and down her back, fully aware of the effect her touch was having on him. "Angry?" he asked her, and she nodded. "Crying?" he asked, and she nodded again, her cheek rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. "Why didn't you call me?"

"It was your day to be with your mom."

"But I could have taken the time."

"I've taken too much of your time already. How is she?"

"She's fine, I guess. They still say it's all in her head."

"But you're still worried."

Bobby let out a long sigh. "I saw the pain in her eyes, Alex. Whether there's really something wrong or not, she's hurting."

Alex's arms tightened around him. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

After a few more minutes, their arms slipped free and she led him to the bedroom. After changing, Bobby climbed into the bed with his back against the headboard and she nestled against him.

"I shouldn't have left you," Bobby said.

"No. do not feel guilty about this. It was my call. I thought I was ready, and I guess I just wasn't."

"Alex, do you want me to call Ross?"

She leaned back so she could look up into his eyes. "No, Bobby. I've got to do this. I can't get better if I can't be alone."

"Were you alone today?"

She resumed her position with her head against his chest. "Liz left after dinner, and I tried…"

"Something happened, and you called Johnny."

"I guess it was a panic attack? I just… I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I was so scared, I was shaking."

He held her close for a moment, then relaxed his arms again. "Olivet, tomorrow. Maybe she can help."

Alex sighed. "Maybe."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

They made love for the second time, and as she drifted to sleep in his arms, his mind started to race again. Bobby tried to relax. He thought about how soft her skin felt against his, and the sweetness that was her scent. But his mind derailed his efforts, conjuring up a maelstrom of worries: for Alex, for his mother, for their relationship.

Satisfied that she was asleep, he rolled over and quietly got out of bed. Bobby found Alex's laptop in the other room and started typing in his mother's symptoms.

* * *

Bobby stood by the SUV, waiting for her to emerge from Olivet's office. The door opened, and she wiped her eyes as she came out, then gave him a forced smile.

Bobby's face contorted as he went around to open the car door. "Hey," he said quietly, touching her back just before she slid into the seat. Once she was in, he shut the door and went back to the driver's side.

Alex was hiding her face from him, and more than once he saw her wipe her eyes.

"Tough one, huh?" he said quietly.

She sobbed.

He swallowed hard and tried to give her some space to recover. Bobby drove on in silence, all the way to her apartment. She stopped the crying, but there was a certain distance between them.

Bobby locked them inside the apartment and hovered near the door, waiting and wondering if she would tell him anything.

"I… I think we have to stop this," she said. "This… whatever it is between us."

His face hardly betrayed the vicious pain that ripped through his heart. He only stared at her soberly, his eyes a little dim.

"I… I'm a mess, Bobby, and it's a mistake to think that all of this is… good… for anybody. Maybe later, after… I get through this… maybe then…"

He swallowed again. "You want me to leave?"

Tears slipped down her cheeks and she nodded.

His own eyes glimmered and he pursed his lips as he nodded. "It's your call, Alex." He walked past her and got his things from the bedroom. Bobby paused beside her, then went ahead to the apartment door. He turned back to face her, his hand still resting on the knob. "I'm still… here for you, Alex. Nothing's changed. Whatever you need…" his voice grew rough. Face red and straining against his emotions, he turned and opened it, and as he left, she heard him whisper, "I love you."

* * *

"I don't care!" Bobby muttered into the phone. "Find a place in your appointment book and fit her in!" He watched his Captain walk by, giving him the eye as he headed for his office. "Fine. Yes. Thank you." Bobby ended the call and flopped down into his desk chair, where he resumed scanning LUDS on a suspect of Logan's.

His phone rang and he snatched it up. "Goren." He laid his pen down on the line he was on in the LUDS. "Oh, Eames. How- how are you?"

It had been four days since she'd sent him home, and even though the wound was still raw, the feelings just beneath the surface, they'd both played a good game of it. They still saw each other daily, and spoke as if she were lying in the bed in his arms. They both still demonstrated the love they shared in the form of care and compassion. Only they didn't touch now. Not beyond a fraternal pat, the brush of a finger, or a bump of an arm.

Bobby wouldn't cross that line, not without her invitation. She meant too much to him.

"Okay, Bobby. Okay, I guess. How's work going?"

"It's… it's okay, kind of…"

"I wish I was back."

"Give it time."

"I got dressed without much pain today."

"You did? Good. That's good."

"Bobby, about the other night. I feel just terrible about it, but…"

"It's okay. It's what you need to do."

"I hate that I hurt you."

"You're still my friend?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'm not hurt."

"That's BS, and you know it."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I, uh… better get… back to w-work."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later, Bobby."

"Goodbye, Eames."

* * *

"What is this new hell?" Frances Goren asked him, as he escorted her into the doctor's office.

"Ma, you said you were sick. I'm taking you to a doctor."

"I thought those mindless automatons at Carmel Ridge said I was lying."

"I don't think you're lying." He said it quietly, without a trace of effort, and she turned and stared at him until he returned the gesture. "I love you, Mom. I don't want you hurting."

She reached out and touched his cheek with her fingers, giving him a gentle pat and a smile. "Bobby!"

Bobby allowed himself a smile for her, too, and they continued into the waiting room. He picked up the forms on a clipboard at the front desk, then sat down beside her and filled them out.

"Lefty," she said, with admiration. "I never knew how you managed to do anything with the wrong hand."

He grinned. It was something she'd teased him about all his life.

"How' s your friend?" She asked suddenly, and his writing drooped below the line. He sat up straighter and replaced the pen on the paper.

"She's a lot better," he said. "Physically, she's almost fine."

"She loves you?" His mother asked.

Bobby grinned and blushed and cocked his head with a little shake. "It's not like that, Ma, we're partners."

Frances nodded. "I'm glad you've found someone. It takes a strong woman to handle you, my boy. She's got her work cut out for her."

Bobby finished with the forms, and he couldn't keep the smile from his face. He stepped back to the counter and turned them in, handing over her insurance card for the receptionist to copy.

Frances had her hand on her forehead when he returned. "You okay, Ma?"

"I'm so tired, Bobby. So very tired."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Over the next week, Bobby began to more closely guard what he shared with her. His mother had been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, and given only months to live. He'd managed to keep it together in front of Frances, but when he finally closed the door at his apartment, his anger got the better of him.

It was all so unfair. She had done her best, all her life, given as much as her illness would let her to raise two boys. As terrible as his childhood had been, Bobby could imagine much worse. His mother, when she wasn't sick, had instilled in him a love of life and learning, and a respect for the strength and intelligence of the fairer sex. There had been good times, a lot of them.

He owed so much to her. Without her influence, he would never have developed his passion for reading, which in turn had profoundly influenced the course of his life.

Yes, Frances Goren was difficult to relate to, but if anyone in the world could, it was Bobby. They were more alike than he usually cared to admit. Tonight, he was proud to be her son. She had listened to the prognosis, and fired back with all her might. She'd asked question after question, as if her schizophrenia diagnosis was a hoax.

His mother was a fighter. She had been all her life. And she wasn't going to stop fighting now.

Bobby wracked his brain, trying to think what he could do to help her. The first step, obviously, was a second opinion. Even as they moved forward with a course of treatment, he had to search for someone credible to either confirm or refute her diagnosis.

Bobby sat down in front of his laptop and typed furiously. He forgot to call Alex.

"Goren," he said when it rang, sounding distracted.

"Bobby?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, realizing his lapse. "Alex, how-how are you?"

"Maybe I should be asking you?"

"I'm okay. I'm distracted."

"Working?"

"Y-yeah."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I don't mean to interrupt."

"Alex: what do you need?"

"I was hoping we could talk."

He bookmarked his page on the computer and slammed the top shut. "I'll be right there."

* * *

He was still wearing his suit, and Eames thought that a little odd. Then again, he said he'd been working. Maybe she caught him before he'd had the chance to change.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"What's up?" he said, and though he tried to sound friendly, his tone was off. She studied his face, and could tell he was stressed about something. Again, Eames attributed it to the job.

She closed the door and locked it behind him and gestured for him to sit on the couch. "I saw Olivet again today."

"And?"

"I want to go back to work."

"Eames, c'mon…" His face was pure disapproval.

Alex sighed. "That's pretty much what she said." She folded her arms and stared at her socked feet. "I just feel like this isn't real. You know, being home all the time, it's not the real world, and how can I know if I've got this thing beat if I'm not really in there, living?!"

"It's too soon. You're… you're bored, and you're rushing."

Alex threw her head back against the couch and looked at the ceiling. "Bobby, my life… it's defined by what I do. Even when… even when I married, Joe knew that I would never be a housewife. It's not enough for me."

"You're no housewife," Bobby agreed, and tried to get a smile from her. Alex was too preoccupied to smile. "It's… it's not about you. Coming back, I mean."

"Excuse me?"

"Your return to active duty. It's not about you. If you're not ready, Eames. You put a lot of people at risk."

"You."

He nodded. "Me, and the rest of the team. And the public. What if something happens? Something that triggers… that panic?"

"I'm stronger than that now."

"Strong enough to act when you can barely breathe?"

She grew indignant. "It worked for me the last time."

His breath caught. He rolled his eyes and looked away. "You're not ready. You shouldn't jump the gun. In this instance, you should follow Dr. Olivet's advice."

Alex sighed. She wasn't sure what she'd been hoping for. "You're just being overprotective."

"Maybe so," he conceded, "but I'd rather err on the side of caution."

They sat in silence for several minutes, and finally she stirred. "Hey," she said. "You and Johnny are on the same page, for once."

He gave her a crooked smile. "Miracles never cease."

Alex frowned, but she reached out for his hand. Bobby held her hand for all of forty seconds before pulling away. "Look, I, uh… I have work to do."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." Alex felt spurned, but she didn't try to touch him again. "I miss you, Bobby."

He gave her a polite smile. "Yeah. Me too."

All the way home, he old himself that with his mother to worry about, he couldn't handle taking a chance on a relationship with Alex again. He convinced himself that Alex couldn't handle it, either.

* * *

Logan opened the door and started to walk into the interview room, but Bobby held up a hand and waved him away. "Okay, okay, so… 2:00 on Thursday? Yes. Thank you." He hung up his cell and scrawled the information on a clean page in his binder. Logan opened the door again.

"How you doin'?" Logan asked. "I thought we would have that Trace report by now."

"No, nothing yet," Bobby said, seeming very distracted as he shuffled the papers in his binder.

"Alex okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"Nothing. Forget about it." Mike continued to watch him as he spoke. "Wheeler is going after Naranja. She says that's where the keystone is."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. Could be."

Logan noticed the bags under Goren's eyes and found himself wondering if Goren was up to par, himself. He was just a third wheel, assisting Logan and Wheeler until Alex came back. Chances were it didn't matter. Logan shoved the thought aside. "Well, let me know when you hear from Trace."

"You got it."

* * *

"I'm dying, Bobby."

"Ma…"

"You heard the doctor, yourself. Four months, Bobby. That's all they'll give me."

Bobby scratched his head. "With the right treatment, Mom, anything could happen. Some people live for years with NHL."

"You look me in the eye and tell me I'm one of them."

He looked her in the eye, but his vision blurred and he looked away.  
"There. You know it, too. Just take me home, Bobby. Forget about all this… chemo and what have you. Let me die in peace."

He took a deep breath. "You're just feeling down today, that's all. Tomorrow, you'll feel like fighting again."

"Have you thought what it will be like, Bobby? Life without me?"

He scoffed, and offered her a smile. "No, Ma. It's not gonna happen."

"It happens to everyone. When my mother died… you were seven years old, Bobby. Do you remember that?"

He swallowed hard and nodded. Yes he remembered. That was when she had her first break.

"I still find myself talking to her. Do you think you'll talk to me, Bobby? When I'm gone? I'd like to think you'd maybe share a book with me or something."

"Sure, Ma. I'll read to you," he said, conceding the argument. She was stage four. It was unlikely the second opinion would be any different. He decided to stir the pot, just to get her going. "Maybe I'll pick up some of those romance novels from the booktrader's."

"You read that slop to me and I'll come back from the grave and haunt you forever!"

"Maybe I'll read you one now."

She smiled at him. He'd made her fight again, and she knew it.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N And now we move into the spoilers for Siren Call! Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review. It keeps me writing and helps me give you the speedy updates!

* * *

Chapter 13

Bobby's mother was terrified. She fluctuated from one extreme to another, and it was exhausting. First angry, in denial, then disheartened, then frightened beyond words. The staff at Carmel Ridge was always glad to see him. They never managed to handle her as well as he did.

It took its toll. He was only sleeping a few hours a night, dividing his free time between Alex and his mother. Determined to stay strong for Alex, he'd kept the news about his mother from her.

Alex was so determined to return to work that she hardly noticed if he seemed a little spent. Night after night, she told him how she wanted to go back, and night after night, he had to convince her she wasn't ready. Finally, on Friday night, they called a truce. The subject was off limits until Dr. Olivet decided to bring it up.

Instead, they watched movies. Comedies. Unfortunately, most comedies had an element of romance in them, and even that diversion proved not to be foolproof.

Monday afternoon was Alex's appointment with Olivet. He dropped her off, then headed to the library for some research regarding his mother, then leaned against the front of the car, waiting for her to emerge. He was especially tired today. His mother's schizophrenia had made an appearance over the weekend, and she was even more difficult than usual.

She came out the door and he straightened up. Bobby fiddled with his pen. "How'd it go?" he asked, taking a few steps in her directions.

"Three more sessions," Alex said.

"Yeah?"

Alex nodded.

"Well, I can drop you off,—" He struggled with his words. They'd planned on trying to spend some time together after this one, but Ross had just called before she came out. "Call, I… I got a…" He jerked his thumb back towards the car.

"Then let's go," Alex said.

All the nights of arguing about it churned back to the surface, and Bobby frowned in disapproval.

"I told her I wasn't getting any better by myself." She stared him down until he raised his eyebrows and shook his head in defeat. He held out the keys and dropped them into her hand. He wanted to speak his mind. He gestured to himself, then thought better of it. He'd already said his piece, more than once. Bobby raised his hands. _Fine. Whatever. I'm not going to argue about it._

They examined the body, a young lady, 18 years old, dead in her car. They picked up a few clues and spoke with her stepfather, a cop from Water Haven. The first night of an investigation was always the longest. After following her trail to a high end bar, they pulled in a potential suspect and interviewed him. He gave them a lead on a boyfriend of the girl's. They took the time to find some background on Jason Raines, and called it a night.

Bobby could see she was tired. He drove her home. All in all, she'd done well. He allowed that maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe she was ready to be back, after all.

This was the first time in weeks that Alex had come home at night. Her abduction had taken place after two in the morning, and he didn't mistake the sound of her breathing as she tried to quell her fear.

"I'll, uh, walk you in," he offered easily.

Alex stayed frozen in the passenger seat until he opened the door on her side. Jolted into the present, she unfastened her seat belt and slid out of the seat. Bobby let her lead the way, but he stayed close behind her, making his presence known.

She unlocked the door and they went in. She turned on the lights, all of them. Bobby helped her check the rooms, and finally she was satisfied. She seemed a little embarrassed as they stood in the doorway again. "Thanks."

He looked down at his feet, and mumbled. "I'm here for you." After a few seconds, he kissed her temple. "You did good work today. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Bobby," she said quietly.

He raised his hand in the air as he walked away, and didn't drop it until he opened the door of the car.

* * *

The next morning, Alex briefed the Captain. Bobby joined her for the tail end of it, verifying that Raines ringtone was O Canada in the victim's phone. As they headed out the door, the Captain called her back.

"This is your idea of taking time off?" he probed.

She was ready for this. She knew everyone thought she'd come back too soon, and she knew sooner or later she'd hear it from the captain. "I appreciate your concern, Captain, but I'm fine." She followed Bobby's path to the desks.

* * *

She drove them to Water Haven, and they made small talk about the community. As they approached Raines' ad agency, Bobby noticed something was off.

"Blinds closed, middle of the day?" he observed. They walked together to the front door, and Eames knocked, calling for Raines. When they got no response, both of them felt their radar go up. After a glance, Bobby went back to the window, leaving Alex at the door. She continued to call and he found a sliver of an opening where he could see inside. Wiznesky had a gun trained on Raines, and was following him to the door, where Alex was.

Alex was already looking Bobby's way, waiting for his signal. He glanced at her and started to wrap his handkerchief around his knuckles. Alex drew her firearm.

He stared Alex down until he saw her draw her weapon. Bobby couldn't have expressed the cold fear he felt, knowing she was in danger. So soon, too soon after…

There was nothing he could do about it. They were here, on the job, and he had to trust that she could handle it. "This is not a good time," called Raines from inside. Alex backed away from the door, into a safer position. Bobby continued to watch through the window.

Raines saw that Wiznesky's attention was divided between the dor and the window. He took a chance and threw the front door open, running outside. Bobby smashed through the window with his hand and held Wiznesky at gunpoint.

"Drop the gun," Bobby said, even as Alex told Raines to lie down.

Wiznesky looked from Goren to Eames, and saw gun barrels in each place. "He murdered my Ashley."

"Officer Wiznesky, drop the gun," Bobby commanded. His voice was soft, but he was all business. He said it again, raising his voice this time. "Drop the gun!"

Wiznesky looked back and forth again, and then said, "Okay. Okay." He carefully placed the gun on the floor.

"All right, step away," Bobby continued. Wiznesky walked slowly, with his hands up, towards Eames, who had him in cuffs by the time Bobby was at her side.

They called it in and soon the Water Haven police showed up in force. The first to respond was Wiznesky's partner. Bobby paced the area, keeping his distance but carefully watching Alex. She hadn't shown any outward signs, but he could tell by the way she stared at Wiznesky that she was angry.

Water Haven PD made some excuse about grief, and Alex threw it right back at him. Bobby came closer, standing just behind his partner. He looked away, still listening as Wiznesky's partner promised to look into who tipped him off. He pointed to Raines and told them they were looking in the right place.

Alex took the lead questioning Raines. She was trying to prove to Bobby that she was okay. He let her. He had to show her he trusted her. He milled around the room, trying to pick up whatever clues he could while she asked the questions, made the small talk.

He'd gathered enough to know that this wasn't your typical office. Bobby suspected Ashley wasn't really working when she was here. He fired off a question, and then a comment about how intimate the place was. Raines blew off the insinuations, and Bobby tried to see into the minifridge when the man had it open while Alex resumed the questioning. They nearly collided, and Bobby backed off a little, then reached around Raines, finding a small bottle of sparkling Saki. Bobby took over the questioning again. He gave them another name, a new lead.

They wrapped things up and headed to the local high school to talk to Brian Murphy. Bobby chatted with people at the makeshift memorial on the school steps while Alex interviewed Murphy. They both gathered a few tidbits and met back again on the way to the car.

It felt like old times again. They were both getting back into their groove. They discussed the case on the way to see Raines' wife, and only a few moments were spared for more personal matters. He complimented her on the situation at the agency, and she asked about his mother.

By the time they interviewed Kelly Sloane, Raines' wife, they were tag-teaming the questioning like they'd never been apart. Like they'd never been through the ordeal with Jo Gage.

By evening, they were bringing the Captain up to speed. Ross listened carefully, and then ordered them to bring Raines in. They camped out at the Ad agency, having learned on the phone from his wife that was where he was most likely headed. It was a media frenzy, and he was hard to reach. They worked their way through the crowd of reporters, and Bobby flashed his badge, taking Raines by one arm. The man jerked out of his grip several times, becoming more and more agitated.

Alex had enough of it. "All right, Mr. Raines, let's go," she commanded.

"Why don't you hook up with a real man, Sweetie?" Raines told her. He reached for her and she deflected him.

"All right, that's enough!" Goren said. Raines took a swing at him, and Bobby ducked. Just as quickly, he had Raines against the wall, cuffing him. Bobby took him to the car and Alex followed.

* * *

"Good work," Ross said to them, walking by. "As soon as he's sobered up, we'll get him in interrogation. Why don't you two head home, bunk out for a while?"

They nodded in agreement as the Captain walked away. Bobby walked with her to the elevator. Once the doors were closed, he turned to her. "You're tired."

"So are you."

He nodded. He really wanted to know if she was all right, but he knew she wouldn't tell him. Not the whole truth, anyway. "I can take you home," he offered.

"No, Bobby, it's all right." He frowned at her, the worry evident in his face. "I'll… I'll be okay."

He held the doors open for her. "Good night, Eames."

"Night, Bobby."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

He called Carmel Ridge first, hoping for a good report on his mother's day. Bobby sighed. He hadn't had a chance to call her during the work day; they'd just been running from one lead to another all day long. Now she was asleep and he had to settle for a report from the staff.

It was a good facility. He'd shopped around carefully before getting her admitted there. But like anyplace, it had its ups and downs. He got a lot from calling the nurses, but conversation with her was the best barometer for him. Jut a few words from his mother, and Bobby could tell exactly where she was on the trajectory to a mental break.

"Hello, this is Robert Goren, I was calling for an update on my mother?"

"Hello, Mr. Goren. This is Theresa Mills."

"Hi Theresa." She was one of his favorite nurses there. "How is she?"

"She wasn't feeling well today."

"The-the cancer."

"Yes. She was achy and had some nausea and vomiting."

Bobby was pained to hear the news. He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. "And mentally?"

"Depressed, but lucid."

"Thank you, Theresa. I-uh, I'm working. Give her my love, will you?"

"Certainly, Mr. Goren."

"Thank you."

"Good night."

He ended the call and then dialed another.

"Bobby?"

"Hi, Alex. I just wanted to make sure you're… you know."

"You're checking up on me."

"Yeah."

"I'm okay, Bobby. Thanks."

"I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Bobby."

Satisfied that he'd done all he could, Bobby stripped out of his suit and dropped wearily onto his bed.

* * *

"He's sober, but now he gets to talk to his lawyer." Alex was as dry as ever, and Bobby thought again that maybe she was ready to be back. They busied themselves studying the details, preparing for whatever might crop up in interrogation.

All they got from Raines was a solid alibi. Later that night, Ashley's friend Nicole was on television claiming she had an affair with Jason Raines, too. This drew their attention back to Brian Murphy.

* * *

The next morning, they found out Brian had been tipped off that he would be the next suspect. They caught him just as he was about to leave by boat.

Wiznesky's partner had tipped him off. Brian told them that Wiznesky and Sajak were the ones who'd busted up the party. He told them the man had found his thirteen year old daughter walking the streets alone and he'd beaten him up for it.

The detectives decided to talk to Wiznesky's wife. The woman was obviously ill. She was jaundiced, and tired. Her movements were slow and careful. She was weak. Bobby noticed the medical tape on her chest and asked her if it was a stint for chemo.

Oddly, the interview was ended by Emily, the thirteen year old. She said her father would be upset they were talking to Joyce.

They brought in Sajak to see what they could squeeze out of him. All they got was a niggling in the gut. Sajak was covering for Wiznesky. Things were getting political, so they pulled in Ross to schmooze with the Water Haven Captain.

He assured them the whole Water Haven PD would alibi the two cops. Eames and Goren filled in the gaps for their Captain, connected the dots. He offered to get a subpoena for their patrol logs and warned them to watch their backs.

The next stop was to interview Ray Wiznesky. He was working a security gate, checking IDs as people drove on and off the police lot. "Hit him hard," Ross had said, so Alex opened with an accusation of the cover-up.

When Eames mentioned his wife, he became defensive. Something clicked in Bobby's brain. He looked up. "Your wife being sick…I mean, you can almost… feel that, can't you? I mean physically, the pain and the nausea."

"You don't know what I'm feeling."

"The rage? Helplessness?" Bobby countered. "I mean, I do know. Because my mother, she has lymphoma."

Alex glanced over at him. He was sincere.

"And the doctors, they talk about her life in months…and I think, you know, I'm smart, I'm resourceful…but that… it's a lot."

Wiznesky didn't even flinch. "Joyce is gonna make it. She's strong. And now, she's gonna be fine." With that, he ended the interview.

Alex walked with Bobby back to the car, engaged in a short recap of the conversation. "Your mom, that was true, right?" she asked him. She couldn't help feeling hurt that he hadn't told her before.

Bobby nodded. "She's a fighter," he said.

Alex frowned as they took the last few steps to the car. So they'd come full circle, then. Instead of the open intimacy they'd shared only a couple of weeks ago, she was back to learning his most personal details as he blurted them out to a complete stranger, when they were useful on the job. She spared Bobby a glance, and saw how he had steeled himself, standing straight, forcing a smile, forging ahead no matter how badly he was hurting.

In the car, she paused before she turned the key. "You know you can still talk to me, Bobby. I never wanted us to lose… that."

His face contorted and he nodded as he looked out his window. "I didn't want to… burden you."

"I need to look outside myself, Bobby. That's the path to healing."

He nodded, and allowed a glance her way. "You heal by helping me, lose my mother."

Her face fell. "Bobby, I love you. I want to help."

He nodded and spoke quietly. "I love you too. I know… I know you want to help. But what happens when… when she's gone? What happens to us then?" He looked her squarely in the eyes. "Olivet... what she told you was right. Maybe later, after I work through this… maybe then we can…"

Alex's face was pained, but she reached out her hand and gave his a long squeeze. To her surprise, Bobby clung to it tightly. At last, they let go and she started the car.

* * *

They caught up to Emily Wiznesky as she walked her dog on the beach, and got what they could from her before heading back to 1PP to run things by the Captain.

He promised to run a ruse by the Water Haven PD, informing them of an impending indictment against Wiznesky. Bobby and Alex got their stuff and headed out to Officer Wiznesky's home.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Joyce let them in and led them to the study. She was weaker today, worried, and both detectives picked up on it right away. They stepped inside, and Bobby closed the door behind them.

Ray sat with his back to them, in his leather office chair. All they could see was the top of his head. "I know all about the indictment, detectives. It's a small town."

"Could you… turn around?" Bobby asked quietly.

Wiznesky spun the chair slowly, revealing that he held a gun in the soft tissue under his chin. His face was determined.

"Take it easy… Officer…" Eames said softly, not wanting to spook him.

"If I die before I'm charged, it's a full pension… for Emily."

Bobby closed his eyes a moment, trying to still the churning inside him. "Put the gun down, Ray," he said.

"What gun? They took my gun away from me. You made sure of that!" He leapt to his feet and turned the gun on the detectives. Bobby's body went completely cold.

"Ray-"

"Raines would be dead if it wasn't for you." Bobby took a step back, as if the extra foot of space would have any effect to slow a speeding bullet.

"Okay," Bobby said, putting his hands up. "It's on me." He looked over at Alex. Had he really just gotten her back only to lose her today? "It wasn't on her. You need to let my partner go—"

"Don't move!" Ray ordered.

The panic was starting to rise, and it came through in his voice. "You can see me, right? I'm right here! Nobody's gonna grab your gun this time." Bobby could see Alex's shoulders rising faster as the fear made her breathe more rapidly. "And I know that it wasn't your fault, 'cause I read the report. You were pulling…" he could hear her breathing fast, just like in the hospital, when they pulled the curtain back. Bobby swallowed hard and kept talking. "… a double shift. You had a new baby, you spent… a lot of nights without sleep. And this guy jumps off the bench, it happened in one, maybe two seconds…"

"I couldn't stop him."

"No one's blaming you," Eames chimed in, and Wiznesky pointed the gun at her.

_Damn it, Eames!_ Bobby's heart was pounding.

"That court reporter? He shot her in the face, and I couldn't stop him."

Bobby struggled, trying to think what to say next, to get that damn gun off of Eames.

"Daddy?" Emily called from outside the door. Bobby turned his head a little, listening.

"It's all right, Baby," Ray called, a touch of a smile on his face for his daughter.

"What are you doing? Mom wants to know."

"Oh, yeah, just give us a minute," Ray called.

The thought flashed across his brain. His voice was quiet. "You gotta let my partner go," Bobby said. "and look after your daughter."

"Daddy?" Emily called again, as Eames frowned and shook her head.

She was aggravated that Bobby would do this. How could she have his back from the other side of the damn door? At the same time, she was relieved. She could feel the fear building, creeping up inside her, and she wasn't sure, really sure, if she could handle it. "Let me talk to her," Alex said.

"Daddy?" Emily called again, sounding worried.

"You gotta put the gun on me, and let my partner go look after your daughter," Bobby said, his voice firm but shaking.

Wiznesky thought a moment, then addressed Eames. "Put your piece on the desk. And your partner's."

Eames nodded and slipped her gun slowly out of the holster, then reached for Bobby's. He held his jacket up out of the way, so Wiznesky would know they weren't trying anything. Bobby's eyes met hers for a split second. The message there was clear: I love you.

"Daddy? I'm coming in!"

"Just give me a minute, Baby. Hold on a minute."

Alex gently placed both Glocks on the corner of the desk. Ray grabbed them and dropped them into the seat of the chair. He cocked the revolver in his hand. "Now turn around," he told Eames.

Bobby tried to look at her again, but he was afraid to. He was afraid to do anything that would make Wiznesky want to keep her in the room. He bit the inside of his cheek as Alex turned her back to the gunman and walked to the door with her hands up. As she opened the door, Bobby turned half-way, just to see her to safety. He stepped over, in between Wiznesky and the doorknob. He didn't even have time to breathe a sigh of relief.

Wiznesky moved closer, his jaw jutting out with determination as he held the weapon on Bobby.

"She's a good girl," Bobby said, unable to hide the worried look on his face. "Emily, she's—"

"Well I don't need you to tell me that."

"Oh, I know, it's just, she's precious, you know, she's…" Bobby thought a moment, what would get through to this guy?! Even as he felt the chills go through him again, he said, "She looks like her mother."

Ray was quiet a moment. "Joyce. Ashley was killing her. She abandons her sister, doesn't even take care of her own mother."

"Oh, well, you found Emily," Bobby said. "Y-she got home safe."

"Joyce was crying. She couldn't stop shaking."

"But you knew… that they were hurting. And… you had to protect them."

"Joyce didn't even get angry," Ray said, the astonishment still in his voice. "She was worried about Ashley after everything! Tell me, how is that possible?!"

Bobby shook his head. "I don't know," he breathed. He kept shaking his head, and he thought of Frank and his own mother's forgiveness. "It's mothers. You know?" Bobby stepped closer.

Ray jerked the gun at him. "Back off!"

Bobby stumbled back, visibly flinching. He thought of his mother again, the months ahead, the pain, the chemo, and her going through it alone because this bastard shot him dead. Bobby took a breath and tried to get control of his head. "You knew… what was going on with her. You knew what was inside her."

"The cancer cells, they feed on stress," Ray said. "Joyce was never gonna get better."

Bobby shook his head, "No, see, Ashley was toxic. She was toxic to Joyce," he said, trying to build that connection, to let Ray know he understood.

"I found her. I found her and I told her you need to stop what you're doing, and give your mother some peace. And she laughed at me!"

Bobby drew his worried face back and tilted his head, listening.

Ray continued. "And I slapped her! And she looked at me, spit in my face!" A thought flashed through the man's mind. "Joyce is never gonna forgive me!" He cried, jamming the barrel of the gun up under his chin again.

"Hey, she needs you!" Bobby shouted.

"How do you know, what because of your mother?! Some cop BS?"

"No," Bobby said sincerely. He nodded as he spoke. "My mother is ill. And I'm all she's got. And that's all Joyce has got, is you."

"Not anymore."

"Look, we can do something here," Bobby said, wracking his brain. "We can… help you out." He paused a moment, thinking. His nerves were shot. He couldn't breathe right, and he was shaking. "We'll hold the charges. You can spend time with Joyce, you can… stroke her hair… and hold her hand."

"Oh, you think I'm dumb? Some small town cop who'll roll over for NYPD?"

Bobby was terrified. He was losing the thin margin of progress he'd made. "I never said that!"

"We can work this out… let my partner go, Ray… crap? I let her go 'cause I don't want to kill _her._ I want to kill _you…_"

Bobby felt the bottom drop out. He scrambled, trying to think of something.

"… and then me."

Bobby shrugged. "Who's gonna clean up the mess?" he asked. He waited for the meaning to sink in. "Your daughter?" He waited again. He could see Ray knew this was an honest question. "Huh, her mother?" He prodded.

Ray tossed him a cell phone and Bobby snatched it out of the air with his left hand. "Here, call your Mom. Say goodbye."

An image of Frances flashed through his mind, her despair at his death. Fury worked its way to the surface. "Aw, come on, Ray!" Bobby cried, chucking the phone to the floor. For a moment, he waited for the bullet to hit him. He waited for the end he so surely had coming. When Wiznesky didn't move, Bobby knew he still had a chance. He did the only thing left that had come to his mind. He closed his eyes and called out for Wiznesky's little girl. "Emily?" Bobby called, his voice shaking.

"Shut up," Ray warned. He leveled the gun at Bobby.

Bobby threw caution to the wind. This guy would either kill him, or he wouldn't. He tossed all his eggs in one basket. "Emily, your father wants you to see something!" There was no reply. "Eames?!" Bobby shouted, and even she could hear the fear in his voice.

"She's on her way," Alex said, obviously only a few feet behind him.

"No," Wiznesky warned.

"Daddy?" Emily said.

"No, I said no! Back off out there!" He cried, and Bobby lunged for him, tucking Ray's shoulder under his armpit and trying to wrench the weapon out of his hand. He couldn't do it, so Bobby elbowed the man, hard. Both men grunted, and Bobby finally worked the weapon free. It landed with a heavy thud on the scarred wooden floor.

He could see Wiznesky was going to move for the Glocks. Bobby threw his hands forward and cried, his whole body shaking. "Just stop! Just stop! C'mon, Ray! She needs you!" Bobby paused, trying to breathe. "Okay?"

"Daddy!"

"She needs you," Bobby repeated. He nodded at the man, knowing Ray understood. He breathed a little, calming himself. "You got to let it go, okay?" He swallowed, and tried to get his breathing under control, waiting for Wiznesky's next move.

At last, the man held his hands out to Bobby. He took him in a firm grip and held switched his hands to a behind the back restraint. "Eames!" Bobby called. "I got him."

She came in and secured the weapons, then called out "Clear!" as the local cops came in and took over.

Bobby was beside himself. He marched out of the room and helped himself to a glass of water, drinking it so fast he nearly choked.

Alex followed him. He coughed, then drank the rest, then raised his eyes to hers. "You okay?" Bobby asked her, and she nodded. He put the glass down and walked out of the house.

It was not even ten minutes later. They were walking him to the car.

Alex was beside Bobby. "I'll file the paperwork," she said. "Take a drive upstate, visit your Mom," she told him. Just as Bobby was about to protest, they heard the shout, "Gun! He's got a gun!" Wiznesky shot himself and fell dead to the ground.

Emily and Joyce ran out of the house and clung to each other with grief.

Alex rubbed her face, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. Bobby watched the mother trying to hide the child's eyes, and the girl fighting to see her father's broken body. He turned back to Eames once, but found himself looking back to Emily again.

Minutes later, they were in the car, having been called back immediately by Captain Ross. The details were left to the Water Haven cops. He was one of their own, after all.

Bobby only stared out the window of the car. He hardly moved, and he didn't make a sound.

Alex glanced over at him. "You all right?" she asked, and Bobby was unable to answer. Alex had to attend to the road, but she was more worried about him than she'd ever been.

He stared blankly out the window for the entire ride back to the city. He kept running the facts in his head; and like weeks before, all he could think was he should have seen it coming. He should have known, he should have taken precautions. He could have saved little Emily the horror she'd just seen. He could have kept Joyce from having to face the final curtain without her husband.

Alex spoke to him now and then, and truth be told, Bobby thought he'd answered her. But her words reached him like some kind of foggy cloud; phonemes strung together randomly with no clarity or definition.

By the time they reached the parking garage, he hadn't made a sound for more than 30 minutes. Alex had never seen him like this. She tried again to reach him. "Bobby."

He looked over at her again, but she could see from his expression that he was lost. She slid from the driver's seat and hurried around to open his door. Alex reached in, took his binder from his lap, and used her other hand to grip his. "We've got to go debrief with the Captain," she said.

He got to his feet and walked with her, guided more by the pressure of her hand than the visual stimuli he was taking in. After they got out of the elevators, he veered into the men's room.

Eames waited for him, more than ten minutes. When he emerged, he was more focused, but his eyes were still dark and he still wore that troubled expression.

"You okay?" she asked him again.

"Let's go," Bobby replied.

Ross intercepted them at their desks. He gave them both the once over, then asked Goren to go into his office. Bobby walked ahead, and as he turned back to look at Eames, he saw the Captain speaking with her at her desk.

Bobby folded himself into the guest chair in Ross' office, crossing his legs and resting an elbow on his knee. He set his chin on his hand.

"Goren," Ross announced as he came in and shut the door. "Thanks for waiting."

Bobby nodded, his face still pressed against the palm of his hand.

"I know the two of you had a bad time out there," he said. "I want your take on Eames. Is she all right? It hasn't been that long since her abduction…"

"She's good," Bobby said, and he didn't feel it was a lie. She'd been scared, sure, when Wiznesky's gun was on her, but she hadn't frozen or acted irrationally. She'd been a model officer under duress, and he wouldn't let anyone think otherwise.

"I'm thinking of insisting she take more time off."

Bobby nodded. "It wouldn't hurt," he said.

Ross nodded, too, his green eyes penetrating. "Now. What about you, detective? I hear you had some scary moments in there."

"I'm… I'm okay," Bobby said, but his body language betrayed him. He looked away, shifted, and folded his arms.

Ross stared him down for a couple of minutes. "I want you to take a few days. Do whatever you need to do to put this behind you."

Bobby ran his hand along his face, pressing his fingers against his eyes. At last, rather than protest, he nodded silently. He got up and headed back out to the desk. There was some wrapping up to do before they could get out of here.

They typed up their reports and Eames put her head in her hands. Bobby glanced over at her, alarmed, thinking for the first time that maybe it had been too much for her.

"Eames?" he asked.

She sighed. "I keep feeling like I… I should be more aware, like there's someone lurking around every corner."

He pressed his lips together and frowned.

She continued, "I guess I'm just tired."

"You're not," he said, "Just… tired."

Her eyes met his.

"It's the… natural… progression of things."

Alex folded her arms and tossed her hair. When she spoke, it was so quiet he barely heard her. "I don't want to go home."

Bobby's skin had been crawling ever since the confrontation. He had his own worries, but Alex's words crept through a crack in the walls he'd been building. "I'll go with you," he volunteered.

She considered his offer as she looked into his eyes. Finally, she nodded.

* * *

Alex hadn't lied. The crisis with Wiznesky had stirred up her post-traumatic stress receptors. She did feel like she was looking over her shoulder constantly, either to catch a creep in the shadows, or to see if her partner was still there. There was more to it than that, though. She was checking to see if Bobby was coping, and the overwhelming answer to that all evening was a resounding "no." From the moment Wiznesky shot himself, Bobby had retreated into his shell, and though he managed to get through the last of the paperwork without drawing much concern, she could see it. Alex could see the distant look in his eyes, the tenseness in his every muscle.

And so she'd tricked him. She'd used the only influence she had to get him to stay with her.

He was resistant, at least when she asked him to stay in the apartment. He refused to come to the bedroom with her, as they'd done in the early days after her release from the hospital.

So they'd snuggled together on the couch, instead. Bobby sat ramrod straight, his back against the cushions, and Alex had worked her way closer until her head was against his chest and his arm fell loosely over her back.

She'd told him what she was feeling, the truth of it all. Bobby had just sat silently, comforting her with his embrace, a slow hand rubbing circles on the skin of her lower back.

"What about you?" Alex asked quietly. "What's going on in there?" she added, putting her hand over his heart.

At the prompt, his heart rate jumped and he broke into a cold sweat. "I'm okay," he lied.

Alex drew back far enough to look him in the eye. "Bobby…" she said, and he knew she saw right through him.

Angrily, he turned his head. He hadn't invited her in! Bobby bit his lip and stared at the baseboard.

"Bobby, you've got to talk about it. You keep it bottled up like this and you're going to blow."

He glanced at her, then turned away again.

"Maybe it'll all come to head in a safe place, like here with me. But maybe you'll pop on the job. Or when you're with your Mom." This earned her an anguished look. "Talk, Bobby. Get it out."

He never broke the eye contact this time. Alex waited. His lips worked, forming words but not speaking them. At last, his voice shattered the silence. "I wasn't on my game."

She wanted to protest. He'd talked him down, after all, diffused a deadly situation with nothing but words. But Alex knew she had to let Bobby speak. Whatever he thought, he believed it, and he had to talk about it.

"I sh-should've warned them, the Water Haven guys. A-about the cuffs."

Ray Wiznesky had asked to be cuffed in front. He knew from experience how easily a cuffed man could draw and use an officer's weapon. He'd been the one to lose his weapon, once. And so Ray had used that same tactic to carry through with his plan and kill himself.

"I was… too wrapped up in you. Alex, it scared hell out of me. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you… of failing you… again."

She bit her lip to keep from speaking. He was so wrong, about all of it, but she had to let him continue. This was his reality, and he had to work through it. When she raised up to glance at him again, she was surprised to find his eyes filled with tears. She watched as one drop rolled down his cheek.

"I know now… I could have caught Jo sooner. Alex, all the clues were there! Even Dec put it together before I did." He closed his eyes and more tears fell. "I couldn't think straight. My head…was a jumble of… and today, the same thing…"

"You can't blame yourself for having feelings, Bobby. You're not some kind of robot. I could have warned them about the cuffs, too. Maybe I should be beating myself up over it?"

He blinked, and the last few tears dropped away. "No, Alex."

"Then why should you?"

He had no answer. He just knew how he felt.

"And you've been blaming yourself for my abduction, too."

"If I hadn't met with Gage…" Another thought popped to the forefront of his mind. "Jo told me… when she decided to kill you."

"God."

"I was on the case, and Dec was spending time with me, and so she decided…"

"Stop it."

He gaped at her.

"The only person responsible for what happened to me is Jo Gage. _She _made her own decisions, Bobby. _She _did. And if you allow yourself to feel guilty about it, you've fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Killers never take responsibility for their actions. It's always because someone else made them do it. And as for Wiznesky, it's the same thing. You told him what it would do to his family, Bobby. I heard you through the door. He knew full well… Suicide is the ultimate act of selfishness."

He sighed heavily, and Alex rubbed her hand along his chest. "I could blame myself, too. But I was busy being human. And I'm not ever going to apologize for that. I'm not ever going to apologize for having feelings, Bobby. Your compassion is what makes you so good at what you do," she added. "And if you can have compassion for all of _them_, how is it wrong for you to feel that for me?"

His face twisted with tears again, and he nodded. Alex leaned into him and he held her. His hands moved up and down her back, then sifted through her hair. Alex reached up and took him in a deep kiss.

The creeping feeling in his skin transformed instantly to a pleasant buzzing. Bobby slipped his tongue into the warmth of her mouth, and lost himself in the moment.

Alex kept one hand against the back of his neck, holding him against her, the tips of her fingers playing against his blooming curls. She could feel his need hitting her in waves, and her body pulsed with desire.

The long kiss turned into a series of hungry nips, and as his mouth found her neck, she unbuttoned his shirt. Their breath came harder and her hand fell into his lap.

Bobby groaned in response, a throaty cry of desperation. Without thinking, he pushed up, rock hard against her palm. Bobby's hands slipped up under her shirt and she gasped at the warmth as he covered her breasts with them.

Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do. Maybe they were both too fragile. But it was honest.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"I don't want them to poke me, Bobby."

"I hear you, Ma."

"My skin is riddled with holes already. Look at this!" She said, shoving her arm in his direction. "All I did was pull a jacket on."

Bobby studied the bruise. "It looks painful, Ma."

"It doesn't take much anymore. I don't want needles, Bobby."

"There will be some. The chemo…" he said.

"Well then I don't want the chemo. You tell them no needles. If they want poison in my bloodstream they'll just have to mix it in a cocktail or something."

He grinned at her imagery. "It doesn't work that way, Ma," he said quietly.

"Don't fool yourself, Bobby. You're not doing this for me. Your motivations are completely selfish."

On another day, he would have taken it like a sucker punch, but today, he was strong. He simply looked at her. "Okay, yeah. Maybe so. Is it so wrong that I don't want my Mom to die?"

She blinked, and there was a long silence between them. "You wouldn't mind," she said, "getting the scrabble game down?"

Bobby smiled. He leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek. Then he turned and pulled the box down from the topmost shelf. He cleared a spot at the table and set up the game.

* * *

Alex greeted him with a long, slow hug. Bobby sighed, and he could feel some of the stress easing a bit.

"How'd it go?" She asked him.

"Good," he said. "She was good today." Alex squeezed him more tightly, and then let him go. "And you?" He asked her.

The half-smile appeared on her lips. "I had lunch with my family," she said. "Liz still doesn't know what's safe to talk to me about, and Johnny looks at me like I'm from another planet. But Dad, he's okay."

Bobby grinned. "Our parents know us best," he said quietly. They held hands as they walked across the living room and into the kitchen. As she served up their dinner plates, Bobby grew thoughtful. "You okay?" she asked.

He nodded quietly. "It… it feels… safe… here, with you."

For the first time in a month, Alex's smile was full and rich. She stared at him with affection. "I never thought I'd be able to say the same," she said, looking around at the apartment where she'd been abducted. "Bobby, I can't thank you enough… for everything you've done…"

He shook his head, shrugging off her words.

"No, don't," she said gently, putting her hand on his forearm. "I know I couldn't have come this far without you. And I know it hasn't been easy for you."

His lips turned up slightly. "It was as much for me as for you," he said. "I needed you," he admitted. Bobby accepted her kiss, and as she sat back, he grew more serious. "I-I don't know what it'll be like," he said. "There's already so much to do… the insurance and the treatments and maybe I should move her back to the city… she wants to come back to the city."

Alex squeezed his arm. "You'll figure it out."

"I'm just saying, I may not be much of a… it may not be a great time for a relationship."

"Bobby, I'm not expecting you to spend all your time with me."

"Oh? Well, wh-what are you, uhm… expecting?"

Alex looked down, shaking her head. "A friend when I need it. To be your friend when you need it."

"Well, what about the, uh…" he glanced down at her bosom.

"Maybe now and then, when there's time."

"I might need to be alone, you know, when she gets—"

"It's okay."

Bobby pressed his hands against his face and sighed. Then he rubbed his eyes.

"Just tell me, Bobby. Tell me what's going on, how you're feeling about it all."

"That won't be easy."

"So I'll ask, and then you can answer. Same goes for me. Nothing is off-limits."

He nodded and replaced his hands at her hips. He gave her a quiet grin and bent down, tasting her lips.

He rose from the kiss, and Alex took him by the hand. "C'mon, dinner's waiting."

* * *

Alex heard him on the phone. It was well past midnight, and she wondered if her phone would be ringing soon, too. Only the call was taking too long. She could hear Bobby's voice in the other room. As he spoke, he got louder and louder with the aggravation. Alex rolled out of bed and went down the hall.

"Look, I already told you her name, Declan. Nicole Wallace. Yes. Yes. Well, I don't want to meet with you and… and… discuss her. No. I'm busy. I've got th-things to do." He nodded his head nervously as he listened, pacing back and forth in the living room.

"Oh, she is?" Bobby frowned, sighing. He turned and saw Alex watching him. He scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry Jo isn't doing well. But, no, Declan. I don't have time. My mother—my mother has cancer. And I have to spend my time with her." He listened again.

"You leave Alex out of this!" Bobby shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just—she- no. No, Declan. I'm sorry. You'll just have to do your research the old fashioned way. Yeah. G-goodbye." Bobby ended the call and turned to stare at Alex. He had no idea what she might be thinking.

She only folded her arms and frowned, waiting for an explanation.

Bobby's nerves were on overdrive. "He s-said he noticed how poorly I worked the case… w-when Jo…" His head twisted back and forth in some kind of half-nod, half shake. "He says he's concerned about me, that I'm l-losing my touch."

"Bobby," Alex said, shaking her head.

"And then he talked about women serial killers. He heard about Nicole. He wants to study Nicole. He wants _me_ to tell him about Nicole." His eyes met hers again. "I told him no. I don't want to—I can't go there."

Alex nodded in agreement.

"And then he said Jo's been asking about me, that she's not well… he wants me to visit her."

Alex paled a little.

"Well, y-you heard me. I'm not going to."

"You told him about your Mom."

"Just to get him to back off. I-I…" A shiver ran through him. "I don't want anything to do with him."

At last, Alex seemed somewhat relieved. She came closer. "You're not losing your touch, Bobby. Look how many cases we've solved since…"

He nodded, and when she was close enough, he put his arm around her.

"You could always change your number," she suggested.

Bobby chewed the inside of his cheek. What with his mother and his missing brother, that wasn't a good plan. "I don't want anything to do with him," he repeated.

* * *

A/N I'm seriously thinking I should just end it here, maybe write a sequel that goes from Brother's Keeper to Frame or something. What do y'all think?


	17. Chapter 17

A/N Thank you for all of your input. I've decided to continue it here, but in my mind it is split into parts one and two, so here begins two. This will have spoilers from The War at Home all the way through Frame, I expect. As always, keep on reviewing as you read- it keeps me motivated and sometimes sparks new ideas! And I do go back and read and reread the reviews, so they really do mean a lot. Thanks!

* * *

Blindsided part 2

More than a month had passed, and Bobby's mother had started to require more and more of his time. Alex tried not to be too demanding. She was regaining her confidence with every day that passed, and though she missed having him around every evening, she knew she didn't need it anymore. Bobby needed her now more than she needed him, and Alex sighed, wishing he would realize that, too.

Alex was with her family for Thanksgiving, a long-awaited break from the stress of the job. Her sister had gone overboard, making little costumes for the kids to reenact the first Thanksgiving. Alex had to admit, they were cute. She'd invited Bobby to join her, but as it turned out, his mother was scheduled for chemo. As her cancer progressed, he was struggling to make more time to be with her. So he had declined the invitation and was in Carmel Ridge, at the little hospital by the lake, trying to be a comfort to her.

The call out was disappointing, but not really a surprise. Alex met the Captain at the Deputy Commissioner's house. She could tell Ross was already bugged that Bobby hadn't made it yet. She wasn't sure how much Bobby had shared with the Captain. In fact, she'd barely had the chance to talk with Bobby about his mother in the last week. All she knew was she'd seen less and less of him, and what she saw was a very tired and frustrated Bobby. He'd started taking his mother's calls at work, too, something he rarely used to do.

Alex overheard the Captain's strained "Thank you for coming," and knew Bobby had arrived. She was relieved to see him jog into the house. These people were personal friends of Captain Ross, and this investigation was a personal favor to them, making the assignment even more of a major case than usual. Alex knew Bobby was tired when she saw him accept a cup of coffee from the Commissioner's wife. They learned what they could, and then the Captain sent them out to interview Amanda Dockerty's friends, to see if her parents really knew what their daughter had been up to.

"You okay?" Alex asked him, once they were alone in the car.

"Yeah, you know… She's… uh, she doesn't like the hospital up there."

"She still wants to come back to the city?"

He nodded.

"You could do it, you know. It might make things… easier… for you."

He shrugged and then shook his head. "Carmel Ridge… it's her home. When she's not in treatment, she should be someplace… familiar."

Alex frowned and thought about what he'd said. "Yeah, I guess so," she commented, thinking she would rather be home, too, if she were battling cancer.

"She hates it, but… she's still fighting," he said with a smile Alex knew wasn't entirely honest.

"That's good, Bobby," she told him.

They interviewed Trish, and then Amanda's car was found. As they discussed the circumstances of her parking, the Commissioner overheard Bobby's think-aloud and took offense. Ross tried to ease the tension, but Alex saw Bobby's mouth clamped shut. She knew he was already summing up Amanda's father.

He couldn't help it, really. Bobby was a profiler. He knew human nature better than most. Add into that what he had gleaned about the Dockerty's family dynamic, and he already had a pretty clear picture of the Commissioner in his head: Overbearing, judgmental, demanding. Amanda probably spent her whole life just trying to meet her father's high expectations, to gain his approval.

Bobby tried to throw the man a bone, his own kind of peace offering. Just as Goren explained there was another option, the idea was dashed when they found Amanda's handbag. It looked like she had been here, after all.

They ordered a search, and as everyone dispersed, Bobby's cell rang. It was his mother's doctor. Alex saw the tension in his face as he promised the doctor he'd come as soon as he could. "You're 20 minutes from Carmel Ridge," she told him. "I'll cover for you."

Bobby searched her face to make sure she was really okay with that. Finally, he nodded and said into the phone, "All right." She watched him walk back to his car.

* * *

Bobby's mind worked the case as he drove to Carmel Ridge. He was feeling guilty for leaving Eames to cover him, and he felt he had to do something to keep working, to justify his sudden absence at the scene of the investigation. He put in a call to a Junior detective at SID and tried to think how he could find out more about Amanda's tour in Iraq, her connections from her tour of duty.

He was on the phone as they wheeled his mother down the hall to radiology. The chemo bags were on the pole beside her bed. She was accepting the treatment like a champion. He tried to wrap up the call as quickly as he could, but he felt his mother's impatient tapping at his forearm.

This trip to radiology was a new development. There was a concern that the cancer had metastasized, and they wanted to do a bone scan. His mother was beside herself with worry about this new development. Coupled with her belief that this country hospital was substandard, she was thinking herself into a panic. It was the reason Dr. Sylveste had called him in the first place. Nobody could handle Mrs. Goren the way Bobby could. Given her mistrust of the staff, it was doubtful they'd be able to get her through the procedure without him there.

"Bobby, Bobby, Bobby! I don't trust these people!"

"You've got the head radiation technician coming in, she'll give you the attention you need."

"Oh, please. Head technician? You really think they're bringing in the head person? On-on-on-on-on-on Thanksgiving Day?"

"Mom." Bobby's phone rang again. It was about the case, and he took the call. Honestly, he was feeling frustrated with his mother. This wasn't a major procedure: he couldn't understand her fear of it. It wasn't much more than an x-ray, after all.

He tried to listen to the caller, but she continued to rant in the background. Bobby squeezed his temples and tried to tune his mother out.

* * *

He sped all the way back from Carmel Ridge. There was something in Alex's tone that told him he should hurry. Maybe Ross was getting annoyed with him. As he navigated the lanes of the freeway, Bobby tried to push aside the heavy feelings he'd left the hospital with. He'd gotten her through the procedure, that was enough, wasn't it?

Only it hadn't been enough for his mother. Frances Goren was still talking nonstop even as they started to wheel her back to her room. Even as Bobby took Alex's call, as he tried to explain that he had to go.

She'd asked for Frank again, and he honestly wished his brother was there. Bobby made the exit and headed into the city. They'd found the elusive Ashton, and it was time to find out what he knew about Amanda.

If Frank were here, at least it wouldn't all be on Bobby all the time. His mother could have another set of ears to listen to her complaints. The thing was, Frank was missing. Bobby had already sent out feelers into the last five neighborhoods he was known to have lived in. He'd already called in a couple of favors trying to track his brother down, and nothing was coming back. Frank could be halfway across the country, for all Bobby knew.

Bobby shoved his thoughts of family aside. He had to get his head wrapped around the case again. Everything else would have to wait.

He thought about Amanda, the circumstances of her deployment. Ashton had been in Iraq with her. Bobby thought of his own Army days. He'd never seen combat personally, but he'd read about it. He'd read a lot about it. And he'd interviewed a lot of soldiers, too. Even without combat experience, Bobby knew the loyalty of soldiers to the others in their units. He knew how he'd felt about his buddies in CID. The role of women in combat was still fairly new to the military, and he would really have to find out how the soldiers…worked it out.

"Hey," Alex said as he climbed out of the SUV. "I'm sorry about this," she told him.

Bobby shrugged. "Look, I appreciate what you did for me. I, uh… thanks."

Eames briefed him on Ashton and pointed the man out. Bobby walked over and introduced himself, and they walked as he interviewed the younger man.

"In Iraq, the guys put the female soldiers into two categories: Sluts if they slept around, and bitches if they didn't."

"Amanda…" Bobby said, "Which category did you put her in, Ashton?"

"I say this with respect, sir… Amanda was a bitch. But the way she was acting at the club last night…"

"You left her there alone."

"Trish wasn't feeling well, sir. I wanted to get her someplace safe."

"Yeah, like a motel."

Ashton explained that he didn't want Trish on a train and he was in no condition to drive.

Bobby moved on, tried to find out more about who Amanda had been dancing with. Ashton said he thought the guys in the club might have felt led on, and that wasn't something that happened in Iraq. He suggested that maybe Amanda had forgotten that things were different back home. Maybe she'd gone a little too far, pissed somebody off.

Eames headed to the club and found out from the bartender that Amanda had been making out with someone just before she left. She got a good description, and Bobby explained that his longer hair could indicate that he was someone recently out of the military. They were starting to have a picture of a person of interest.

The local chief wouldn't call off the search without the approval of Amanda's father. This was a family case, and he just wasn't willing to give up on family, no matter that the dogs didn't have a trail to follow.

Both Bobby and Alex agreed that Amanda might have staged the whole thing just to go AWOL, or to get out of her impending marriage. They were briefing Ross and the Dockertys on their progress when Bobby asked the tough question: "Did Amanda have… uh, mixed feelings… about going back to Iraq?"

Dockerty took offense immediately. He was proud of his daughter. She was a hero, and there was no way she would run away from her duty. Amanda's mother was open to the suggestion, however. They told her what they knew; what may have happened.

With impeccably bad timing, Bobby's cell rang. He searched his pockets hastily, hating that it was interrupting their discussion. It was his mother. He apologized and walked right between Commissioner Dockerty and his Captain.

"Dr. Sylveste?" she said. His mother hedged, and then admitted that the doctor had come, but she'd pretended to be asleep so she wouldn't have to talk to him.

"Well, if you pretend like you're sleeping, then how's he going to see…"

"Bobby? Where's your brother? You said he was going to be here and he's not here." She almost cried. "I'm all by myself."

"But I'm in the middle of…" he glanced around. His chest felt tight as he found himself between a rock and a hard place. "If you… I'm gonna come," he finally said. Family was priority. His mother was more important. "I'm gonna come," he said again. He hung up the phone and looked at the Dockerty's things. He didn't know how in hell he would do it, but he was going to do it.

Bobby went back to the others.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Eames covered for him again, and it was quite late when he got the call from Ross. Bobby glanced at his mother, blissfully asleep for the last ten minutes, and stepped into the hall to answer his phone.

"Yeah, Captain?" he said.

"What the hell, Goren?" Ross snapped. "You know this is an important case, and every time I turn around, you're either chained to your phone or nowhere in sight."

"Yeah, sir… I've been meaning to…"

"What the hell is going on, Detective?"

Bobby sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It's my mother, Captain. She's… she's in cancer treatment, and I'm all she's got. I'm sorry, but I… I have to be here for her. I'm doing the best I can."

"It would have been nice to know-"

"I know, sir, and I'm sorry for that. It's just all… piling up on me at once."

"You could take leave."

"N-no, sir. I… I can… I'll figure it out. I'll do better, I'm sorry."

Ross sighed into the phone. "I'm sorry, too, Goren. Look. Keep me posted, will you? I'll try to make sure you've got some room, but I can't have you disappearing on me without any explanation."

"O-okay. Yes, okay."

"You'll be back tomorrow?"

"Y-yes. Tonight, it… it was a bad night for her. Thank you, Captain."

"I'm sorry, Goren."

"Thank you." Bobby hung up his phone and breathed a long sigh. He'd been dreading telling Ross, but now that he had, he was relieved.

He thought of something else that might bring him relief. Bobby pushed the numbers for the speed dial.

"Bobby?" she asked, picking up right away.

He sighed, and allowed himself a slight smile at the sound of her voice. "Hi."

"Everything okay?" she asked, truly concerned.

"Yeah, she's, uh… she's sleeping now. She was just, you know… it's hard, all this… She was scared."

"I'm glad you're there for her," Alex said, her voice softening. "Bobby… I'm afraid Ross isn't too happy—"

"I just told him," Bobby said. "It was, you know, I had to… to tell him."

"Good. Are you okay?" she asked.

It took him a lot longer to answer than it should have. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Yeah."

"You… you'll be back tomorrow?" She wanted to ask if he needed anything, but that was a ridiculous question at best.

"Yeah, Eames. Sure."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah."

"Take care."

"Okay… A-Alex. Okay."

* * *

They were running over the details again, when Bobby had to take another call. He disappeared into an interview room, and Eames continued working it with Ross.

"If she left the country, she used fake ID, different name," Alex said, and was surprised to see Bobby join them again. He wore the same clothes as the day before. After staying with his mother all night, he'd come straight to 1PP.

"What about her bank account?" Bobby asked, immediately all business.

"How is she?" Alex asked, but he didn't give her an inkling of an answer.

"I'll have you out of here as soon as I can," Ross said, apologetically.

Bobby ignored their concern. He simply couldn't decompartmentalize everything in his brain. And he didn't want sympathy. He didn't want anyone to think he couldn't handle it. He shook his head. "Amanda have any ATM withdrawals?"

"200 dollars before she got to the club. That's it." Alex gave him his space. If he couldn't talk about it now, here, in front of the Captain, that was okay.

Ross sent them to pick up Amanda's fiancé at JFK. For one short moment, she thought Bobby might talk, but he just blinked and gave her a half tilt of his head.

They headed down to the garage. Even in the car, he didn't speak. Alex slipped her hand over his, and he entertained that for as long as it took to cross the bridge.

"Eames, look, I…" he began, but his words failed him.

"It's okay," she said. "It's okay, Bobby." She put both hands on the steering wheel and simply drove the car.

Bobby glanced sideways at her. Even as he told himself that no one understood, Alex did. Alex Eames understood him better than anyone. He stared at her, and he was grateful. Bobby cleared his throat and looked back out the passenger window. "Thanks," he whispered.

* * *

They learned a little more about what it was like for female soldiers in combat. The old saying "all's fair in love and war" seemed to have applied itself again.

"I told Amanda what goes on TDY… stays TDY."

Goren and Eames both prodded, trying to see just how true the sentiment was. He stuck to it. "When Amanda's in uniform, she's a soldier first."

"And soldiers have sex with each other?" Alex asked.

"It has nothing to do with the real world," Carl explained. "She might have slept with this guy, but it meant nothing. The only thing that matters over there is surviving…doing whatever you have to do to make sure you and your buddies get home in one piece."

* * *

Bobby dug up a name for them, Wesley Burkhartz. He fit the description and the timeline surrounding Amanda's tour of duty and her survival fling. He'd been a squad leader over there.

They headed over to interview him. Bobby listened to his answers, but he also heard the distracting chatter over the radio in the bus cockpit. Burkhartz was cocky and given that Bobby hadn't slept much, there was only so far he would go to entertain the man's story. At the sound of a fire call, Bobby dashed for the driver's seat and slid inside.

"Looks like you got a fire radio up here. Look at that! Police and fire! You like to buff calls, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah. Do you mind stepping out of my bus?"

He bent his head down, and Bobby saw the sloppy stitches on the crown of his head. He asked, and got a pseudo-plausible story about cracking his head on a table coming up from giving mouth to mouth. Bobby and Alex found out not only had Burkhartz done the stitches himself, he also hadn't filled out a worker's comp form.

He got a legit call, then, and Bobby got out of the bus, allowing the man to do his job.

* * *

At last, they caught a break. They traced her cell signal all the way to Shea Stadium. Even though the phone was found in Rockford, the detectives all sensed that Amanda's body would surely be near Shea Stadium.

Goren and Eames went straight out to Willet's point. The sun was beginning to set, and there was a steady breeze that would prove to get stronger as the night blew in. Bobby found blood on the side of an oil container. He called out to Eames, and they got it open. The body of Amanda Dockerty was tucked inside, with the evidence of an executioner's bullet at the base of her skull.

Alex's brow furrowed. For a moment, she thought of another girl named Amanda, another victim. "The fog of war followed her home," she said, coming back to the task at hand.

They called it in, and Rodgers was able to give them the details they needed on the scene. Aside from a toxicology report, they had everything they might need.

The Commissioner, his wife, and Captain Ross arrived. Dockerty's knees buckled, and Bobby and the Captain had to hold him up to keep him on his feet. The man was devastated, as was his wife. As Dockerty got his feet back under him, his wife attacked.

"How did you let this happen?!" she demanded. "How could you?!"

Bobby's earlier judgment of the man resurfaced, but out of respect, he said nothing until they were out of earshot.

"You think you can protect your own, but you can't," Ross said simply.

Bobby couldn't contain it any more. "Captain, Dockerty didn't try to protect his daughter. His expectations pushed her into this." He didn't notice how his words struck Alex. She slowed and fell slightly behind the men.

"Not ours to say, Detective," Ross reminded him. Then he told them Wesley was gone when he tried to pick him up for questioning.

"That doesn't make him look guilty," Alex snarked.

Bobby's phone chirped and he studied the display as Alex and the Captain talked.

She saw a flash on the screen, but not fast enough to read it. "Your brother?" she asked him. Bobby had told her he was trying to find his brother, that his Mom was asking for Frank.

Again, Bobby avoided the question. He closed his phone and went back to discussing the case. He dismissed the idea that Wesley was a jealous boyfriend. He worked it as a profiler, stating in clearest terms: "It was cold. It was impersonal. It was planned in advance."

Their conversation revealed that the killer was familiar with the area, knew the schedule for movement of the oil barrels. Then they tried to connect Wesley to the location, but the only clue they had was what the man had said about his Uncle being a metal worker.

Goren and Eames spent the next hour and a half walking the neighborhood separately, looking for any signs that would connect Burkhartz or his uncle to the area. Bobby was the one who found it. A bumper sticker that clearly read "My son is defending our freedom," and a broken sign that read "Engineering and Machinery." The name was no longer legible, but the phone number was. Eames dialed it.

"B & B Engineering and Machinery will reopen on Monday," she called out.

"Burkhartz and Burkhartz," Bobby said.

Satisfied, the two headed back to the SUV, glad to get out of the chilly wind. She drove a few blocks in silence, then decided to try and get through to him. "So was that your brother?" she asked again.

"N-no, it was Lewis," Bobby said. "I, uh, I haven't had any word on my brother."

She frowned and sincerely wished that somebody would cut Bobby a break. "You wanna… come over?" she asked him. It had been weeks since they had been together overnight, and she wanted him to know he was still welcome.

Bobby sighed, and glanced around. "Look, Alex, I… I'm not up for it. I just can't," and there was a sincere apology in his eyes.

"It's okay, Bobby," she said again, the same way she had before.

He nodded, but he stared at the floorboard. He didn't believe her. As simple as it had all seemed when they'd agreed to move forward with the relationship, it was beyond complex now. He was disappointing her, and he knew it.

"Bobby," she said quietly. "It's okay."

"You don't mean that," he said with a scoff.

"Yeah… yeah I do. This is a tough time for you, Bobby, and I just want you to remember that I'm here for you."

He shook his head and sighed heavily. "I know that."

"Do you, Bobby? Because it seems like I have to pull teeth to get anything out of you."

"I'm sorry. I… I told you, it wouldn't be easy."

"I know, and I'm sorry, too. Just, Bobby? You don't have to go through this alone. You don't."

He nodded and chewed on his bottom lip as she pulled the car to a stop in front of his building.

He didn't believe her. Alex could read him like a book sometimes, and tonight was one of those times. "I love you," she whispered, too quiet for him to hear as he said goodnight and stepped out of the seat.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Toxicology came back, and she was positive for Rohypnol. Since she hadn't been raped, it only confirmed what Bobby had said before: The whole thing was planned ahead of time.

As they discussed it, they realized Trish had been under the influence of Rohypnol, as well.

A call came through for Bobby on the office phone. Bobby headed for his desk, and Eames stayed back, discussing the case with the Captain.

"Oh, it's amateur hour here today," his mother said. She sounded weak, tired. "The doctors, the nurses, they talk to me like I'm an idiot."

Bobby listened, and he could feel his heart breaking.

"I'm telling you I've had it with these people. If you don't come soon, I'm… I'm walking out," she said, but she sounded as if she couldn't possibly find the energy to do it. She hung up the phone before Bobby could speak.

"Mom," he said, too late to do any good.

* * *

They pieced it together, that Ashton was an accomplice, even though he'd never served in Iraq with Wesley. Bobby managed to shove his personal problems aside, and focus on the case. It all started to make sense. It had to do with loyalty, with the kind of loyalty that came with a uniform. He lost his temper once, interrupting Ashton and telling him he didn't have time for it.

CID came through for them, and soon they had the real motive: an ambush, and an act of vengeance, and then a cover-up. They brought Carl back, got Amanda's side of the story. Sure enough, she'd been upset by the whole mess. Carl fell apart. He realized his mistake, and felt the guilt that he may have contributed to her death.

Bobby saw the Commissioner watching the crying man, and he bristled. "Well, it's hitting him hard. Maybe you should console him, Commissioner. He was almost your son-in-law."

"My daughter's dead, detective. I don't owe anyone my sympathy right now." Ross looked over the man and gave Bobby a look of warning.

"Well, maybe you never do. Maybe that's why Amanda didn't tell you the whole story." Bobby couldn't seem to shut his mouth. He was sick of giving his time to this man, when he really needed to be somewhere else.

"Detective," Ross warned.

Dockerty was offended. "What do you know about my daughter?! Or about what kind of father I am?!"

Goren should have apologized, but the whole thing just pissed him off. He groaned and headed for the office door. "Well," he said. "As little as you know about who I am," he replied, and walked out.

Eames heard him from her seat at her desk, and she mashed her lips together. Bobby was really digging himself into a hole, now.

"Detective, you're out of line!" Ross called after him.

Quietly, Bobby marched to his desk. He picked up his binder, and a book he'd been studying, then he set both back down and swiped everything, including the phone, onto the floor. Then scratched his head and stomped right out of the squad room.

Alex buried her emotions and went into damage control-mode. She drew everyone back to the case. "Whatever happened over there, they must have been afraid Amanda would talk about it when she came home."

The Commissioner was furious, but he directed it all at Wesley. Ross promised the man would be in the city in two hours.

Alex went after Bobby. She put it together. He was starting to self-destruct. She caught him at the elevators, where he was impatiently mashing the buttons with his finger. "What the hell was that, Bobby?" she demanded, not bothering to hide her anger.

He didn't answer. He didn't even look that remorseful.

"You want to throw it all away? Just, I know—" She said as he started to walk into the elevator car.

"Back off," he warned, sounding nothing like the man she knew. He wouldn't look at her. He kept his eyes to the floor, shaking his head as the doors shut.

Bobby rode the car all the way to the lobby and left the building. He'd heard enough. Burkhartz was being brought in by mule, and he was stuck in the city until the man arrived, until they interrogated him, until the job was done, until Ross decided to release Bobby from this nightmare of a case.

Meanwhile his mother was suffering. She was suffering physically and emotionally and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Well, the only thing he could do was exactly what she'd asked. Come. Only he couldn't come, not until this damned case was behind him.

The cold wind cut into him, and he pulled his overshirt together and folded his arms across his chest. Bobby took a long walk in the chilly November air.

* * *

Dockerty was alone with Burkhartz in holding, and Eames was worried it wouldn't go well. Ross knew the Commissioner, and he promised her the man would play it by the book.

It was then that Bobby reappeared, looking calmer, but not much better.

"Had time to cool off?" Ross asked, and Bobby nodded.

They waited in silence until Dockerty returned, announcing that Burkhartz was a cold-blooded killer. "He killed my daughter," he told them.

"He didn't confess?" Bobby asked.

"No."

A few minutes later, Goren and Eames were headed for their desks. "It's hard to get a confession if he's incapable of guilt. Maybe we should tell him that he's got nothing to feel guilty about?"

Alex was still angry. "You do that," she said, and walked away.

Bobby reached out for his chair. He braced his palms against the desk and chewed the inside of his cheek. He guessed he deserved that.

* * *

Burkhartz continued with his name, address, and date of birth ad nauseum. Bobby blew past it and asked him about the soldiers, the victims of the ambush. Safe territory. They'd been killed by Iraqis.

Burkhartz answered.

Bobby drew on his own Army experience. He called the men Wesley's brothers. He noted details of the horror of their deaths.

"You were their squad leader. It was your fault," Eames said.

"No! No." Wesley countered. "I was acting on a tip. A sergeant in the Iraqi Army told me he had, uh, good intel from a reliable source. Some hostiles holed up in a house nearby."

"You raided that house. There was an ambush," Bobby said quietly, sympathetically. "These guys only had a few days before they went home."

Alex showed the CID pictures of the executed Iraqis. Bobby asked what was in the pictures.

"War," Wesley said, plain as day.

"When Tyrone and David were hit, you did what a hero would do." Bobby nodded at him. "You investigated this."

"Army's short-staffed. No CID where we were."

"Right," Bobby said. "But… they were shot in the back of the head. At close range. What I can't figure out is… how did the insurgents get so close without this unit putting up its guard?"

"C'mon, you're not buying this, are you? This guy has no respect for the law. It wasn't insurgents. US soldiers killed those Iraqi soldiers." Alex, who'd never been in the military, was incensed.

"Eames," Bobby warned.

"The report concluded it was insurgents," Burkhartz said.

"But your unit wrote that report."

She'd shut him down. Bobby closed his mouth and looked from his partner over to Wesley.

"What about Amanda? Her name's not on the report."

Burkhartz wasn't so unemotional now. He wasn't detached. He was a human being, who, thanks to Bobby, was reminded that he had a noble reason for what he'd done. "She thought things might have happened differently."

Bobby continued his sympathetic tack. "Yeah, she betrayed her brothers. I thought that you would've talked to her. You know? Especially since you were having an affair."

"Didn't matter to her. Headstrong type."

"She was sticking up for the Iraqis. She's lucky she didn't get killed by friendly fire."

"Did your brothers ask you to keep an eye on her?" Alex asked.

"I wanted to talk some sense into her," Wesley admitted.

"But she was headstrong," Bobby said, "and she thought she was being a hero."

"I just wanted to talk to her," Wesley said, "That's… but she was insistent. She… she kept saying she was going to talk to her Dad."

"You couldn't let her do that, of course. You couldn't take the risk of another traitor being in your midst," Bobby added.

"I didn't want to hurt Amanda."

Bobby nodded. "I know. I believe you."

They continued, and within minutes had enough of a confession. The unis came in and cuffed him, took him back to holding.

Alex closed the two folders in front of her and walked out without a word to Bobby. She was still upset with him.

Bobby stayed a moment longer, collecting his own files. His emotions were roiling. He was relieved it was over, he was worried about his Mom, and he was off-balance with Alex's anger. Bobby stood and as he headed back to his desk, all of the emotions gelled into one: anger.

Alex was waiting for him. She was putting things back into perspective now, and wanted to give him some kind of an olive branch. Bobby walked right past her before she had the chance to say anything.

Ross was business as usual, barking out orders. "Good job, detectives, if you can get me your paperwork, you can—"

"You can save it, all right?" Bobby snapped. "I'm leaving."

Alex's face fell, and Bobby kept walking. He tossed his binder on the desk as he walked past. "You want to fire me… fire me, I don't care."

Alex watched him until he was out of sight, and felt her gut clench. He was self-destructing. And right now, at this moment, she didn't blame him for it.

Ross hadn't moved, either. He too, had watched Bobby's dramatic exit, too stunned to do anything about it. Alex turned to him, and he quietly rolled his eyes and headed for his office.

With a frown, Alex went to her desk. She'd roll out the paperwork, and then maybe after she went home, she'd give him a call.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

She was crying when he arrived. Bobby went around to the other side of the bed where she could see him. He picked up her hand, careful not to bump the IV tubing. "Mom, I'm here," he said, only to hear her whimper louder.

"They're horrible, Bobby! Horrible, horrible people!"

He held his breath and nodded, as his face twisted with anguish.

"I didn't—I never thought you'd come."

"I came, Mom. I'm here." He bit his lower lip, wishing somehow his presence would make her feel better.

"They think I'm an imbecile, Bobby. They think schizophrenic is a synonym for stupid."

"Now, Ma, I doubt that."

"You weren't here! You didn't hear how they spoke to me!" She sobbed, and he bent down to hold her in his arms. He drew in a ragged breath as he realized just how thin she was. The illness was taking her away from him. If he stayed away much longer…

At last, she quieted. He released her, laying her gently back against her pillow.

"I love you, Ma," he said.

She did not respond, only turned her head and stared at the equipment beside her bed.

Bobby folded his hands in front of him. Elbows on knees, he pressed the knuckles of his thumbs against his lips and sat in silence with her for more than an hour. Eventually, she fell asleep.

Bobby got to his feet, then, and folded his arms. He looked out the window of the hospital room, and imagined what it must have been like for her. His mother was no fool. The staff probably had misjudged her intelligence. They probably had seemed condescending. He could feel his anger swelling again, and he rubbed one hand against the back of his neck.

He wondered if he still had a job.

* * *

"Yeah," he said with a frog in his throat. He cleared it with a grunt and spoke again. "Eames, hello."

"How is she?" Alex asked.

"I, uh… not good. I… I should have been here sooner, Eames."

Alex wanted to ask more, but she couldn't think of the right words. She sat in silence and waited for him to continue.

"Anyway, she was… very upset when I got here. It- it didn't seem to help."

"And now?"

"She fell asleep. I'm gonna… I'm gonna stay here with her, Alex. At least until she's released from the hospital."

"Okay."

"Are you…? Ross didn't take it out on you, did he?"

"No, Bobby. He left me alone."

"Good," he said, relieved.

"I took care of the paperwork," she announced. "Take as much time as you need."

"I, uh… I still have a job?" he asked, half-joking.

Alex smiled. "I think so. The Captain knows this hasn't been easy on you."

Bobby nodded. "That's good. I, uh… I need to, uh… to pay the bills."

"Bobby?" he was quiet on the other end of the line. "Is there anything I can do?"

He closed his eyes and ran his teeth over his bottom lip. "You're already doing it," he said.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said. "Good night, Bobby."

"Night, Alex." He hung up the phone, and for a split second, he wanted her desperately. Just as quickly, he turned to his mother. Alex had no idea what his mother was really like. She had no idea, and he needed to keep it that way. He needed someone to understand the love and respect he had for the frail woman on the bed in front of him. If Alex knew more… how the schizophrenia manifested… she'd be just as bad as the hospital staff, and he couldn't allow that.

He needed Alex on his side, and to keep her on his side, he had to keep her at arm's length.

* * *

It was a week before she was back at the home, and Bobby was finally starting to sleep again. He'd called Eames every night, and she could hear the change in him, gradual though it was.

"Look, I'm, uh, checking out now," Bobby told her, zipping his bag shut. "I'm coming home."

"I'm glad, Bobby. Stop by when you reach the city. I'd like to see you, if you're not too tired."

Bobby grinned and spun around, glancing out the window at the lake. The heat of the day was rising off the water in great wisps of steam. "Okay," he said quietly. "I'll do that."

He hung up the phone and dropped it into his pocket. Bobby grabbed his bag in one hand and dropped the room key card and a tip on the top of the dresser. Then he picked up his coat and hurried out to the car.

* * *

In her mind, Alex knew he was better, but when she saw him in her doorway, her heart was full. Without a second thought, she held out her arms. He stepped inside and dropped his bag on the floor, taking her into a full embrace.

"Oh, God I missed you," Alex breathed against his chest.

"I missed you, too," Bobby said, his voice muffled, and his lips pressed into her hair.

Finally, with a smile, Alex pulled away and shut the door. "You want some wine?" she asked, and he nodded with a smile.

Bobby followed her into the kitchen, and they sat for an hour, talking. They emptied the bottle.

He made the first move. Alex couldn't. So much had happened, and he was the one who had pulled away, so he had to be the one to bridge the gap. She accepted his kiss without hesitation, and felt his hand drift behind to slide up her back.

"I'm sorry," Bobby whispered, pulling her into another hug.

"No. Don't do that. We agreed that this would be… whatever it needs to be…" Alex kissed him again. "Don't be sorry, Bobby. You were there for your Mom, that's what matters."

His mouth was greedy, and she felt her own body yearning for more. Alex wriggled closer until she was out of the chair. They rose to their feet together, with only a few breaks in the kisses.

In the bedroom, she pawed at him, loosing a button here, a zipper there. She worked on her own clothes, as well, and before long they were diving for the bed, for the warm comfort to be found there.

He stopped himself several times. He wanted to make it last… for her. She wore a smile as she pulled a nightgown over her head. He slipped back into his boxers, and she held him, curled beside her, his face against her chest as they both succumbed to sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

He could feel her soft skin against his belly. He waited to open his eyes, just enjoying the sensation. Finally, Bobby put his hand over hers and held it as he rolled to his back. In the quiet haze of morning, he lay in the dark, blinking and happy to have her hand in his.

She sighed and he let her arm slip away as she rolled over. Bobby glanced over at her sleeping form, a smile touching his lips. He took a long, slow breath, and got out of bed. Today was Sunday, and with any luck, he'd have time to work on his apartment and pay some bills before getting back on the job tomorrow.

His thoughts continued as he headed for the kitchen and started the coffee. He'd spoken to Ross a few days ago. Bobby had to admit, as harsh as he was, Ross seemed to be doing right by him. He'd told him to complete the FMLA paperwork, that even if the time off was sporadic, it would be covered by the law. Bobby hated the idea of more paperwork, but he supposed Alex was right. He needed to know he still had a job, even if he had to take off and help his mother through her treatments.

Bobby snooped in the kitchen until he found the ingredients for a decent omelet. He poured himself a cup of coffee and started cooking.

"I missed this, too," said Alex's sleepy voice as she padded in behind him.

Bobby grinned. "I thought we could have a nice breakfast before… before I…"

Alex nodded. She didn't want him to feel guilty so early in the morning. "You've been gone a full week," she said.

"I need to go home, take care of… of things."

She nodded and kissed his cheek before reaching for a coffee cup. Bobby was relieved. It wasn't a big deal. Alex understood.

"You still need to work on your coffee-brewing skills," she teased, and he grinned. They had an easy breakfast and shared a few laughs.

Bobby gave her a gentle kiss before he picked up his bag and went home.

* * *

The place was cleaner than he'd left it, and he knew Alex had been there. Bobby tossed his bag on the couch and wandered through the apartment. She'd brought in his mail, and the plant seemed healthy. He checked the fridge and saw she'd given it a cleaning, too. She'd even bought him a few groceries.

Bobby smiled. That was certainly going to make things easier, today. He poured himself a glass of juice and turned on his computer. He had to pay the bills before he got distracted by anything else.

* * *

Bobby went straight to Human Resources in the morning. He sat with a clipboard in the reception area, scrawling frantically with his left hand, trying to fill out the forms. He read and reread the directions. He would need some of them signed by his mother's doctors. He frowned and moved on to a new page.

He was thankful when his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and saw her name on the display. "Hey."

"We got a body in Soho. Meet you over there?"

"Sure," Bobby said, turning over one of the papers in the pile on the clipboard. He scratched the address on the blank back of one of the instruction papers. "I'll see you there," he said, and hung up the phone, replacing it in his pocket. He peeled the stack of papers off the clipboard, gave the empty board back to the receptionist, and hurried out the door.

* * *

They investigated the scene and found out the female victim was high society, one of the Harrington family. They also found out she was a bit of a black sheep in the family, that she didn't play by the old money rules.

Eames was filling in the Captain when Bobby caught up to them.

"Nice to have you back on the job, Detective, everything's…uh?"

"Thanks. Everything's good," Bobby replied quietly.

Ross nodded and headed for his office. Eames brought Bobby up to speed, as they followed the Captain.

"Zoe, that's the little girl," Ross said, "I'll bet she has an inheritance now, too. Who's her father?" he asked his detectives.

"Her birth certificate says 'unknown' and nobody's stepped forward," Bobby answered.

"Dinner at home… could be an old flame. When you're done with the florist's list, take another look at her phone records," the Captain said.

They brought in an ex-boyfriend, a writer. He sifted through a ridiculously stuffed calendar and announced, "Isabel and I haven't been romantic since Bastille Day."

"Now there's a holiday that's tough on relationships," Alex snarked. Bobby put his hand over his mouth, seemingly in thought. He was really hiding a smile.

"You keep a diary of all your relationships," Bobby commented, scratching his head.

"I'm a writer. I keep notes."

Bobby nodded and reached into the man's backpack. "You're recording us," he said, withdrawing a small digital recorder.

"You'd better start explaining this or you'll be working for the Riker's Daily News," Alex warned.

He finally started talking, and they got a lead on who another boyfriend might be. After some checking around, Alex found a park that Isabelle frequented with her baby daughter.

They changed clothes, prepared to pose as parents at the playground. "Nice jacket," Alex said, admiring how sharp he looked in his crisp white dress shirt with the maroon coat over it.

Bobby looked down and cleared his throat, grinning. "Ah, you know, I got it from an ex-girlfriend last Bastille Day…"

She chuckled and bumped his arm. Alex buttoned up her coat and they headed for the playground.

"Isabel brought Zoe here every day," the woman told them. "She's obsessed with motherhood: music lessons, French lessons, but now…"

"Ah, we're still in shock," Alex cried.

The jacket looked nice enough, but Goren was cold. He rubbed his hands together, trying to get the blood moving again.

"You were close?" the woman asked her.

"We worked together at Vogue," Alex said. "We kept in touch."

"Isabel always said that Soho was a nice place to raise kids," Bobby added. For emphasis, he shouted out to an imaginary child, "Max! Max, play nice!" Alex smacked her hand against her leg as if she was fed up with her child's behavior. "We're thinking of moving down here," Bobby said sincerely as the women tried to find the elusive Max.

"Yeah, Isabel said she heard about a great sublet from someone on the playground…"

With a little more info, the women pointed out the Sandbox Romeo, whose real name was Dylan. One of the ladies pointed him out. "He's right over there… by the… sandbox."

"Ladies, can you watch our kid for just one second?" Bobby asked, and again the women searched for Max while Bobby and Alex got to their feet and headed for Dylan.

At the mention of Isabel's name, he started to avoid them. When he realized they were NYPD, he ran. Bobby hopped over a hedge and ran ahead, blocking his way.

"Don't make us arrest you in front of your son," Alex warned him. Finally, they had him.

* * *

They waited until the child had someone to care for him, and then escorted Dylan to a waiting patrol car. Bobby's arms were folded across his chest again, and he shivered.

"You're cold," Alex told him.

"Yeah… there's a reason she's an ex," he said with a grin.

Alex grinned too, leading the way to the SUV. "Obviously. Anyone who gives a coat as a Bastille Day gift…" She started the engine right away and got the heat going for him. As she unzipped her own coat, which was filled with goose down, he rubbed his arms and looked out the window at the people passing on the sidewalk. "And Max? Really?"

Bobby shrugged with a smile. "Maximilian… it means 'the greatest.'"

"You thought of that while we were sitting there?"

He looked at her with true affection, but he didn't answer her question.

* * *

When they reached 1PP, Bobby changed back into his suit coat and replaced his tie.

"You ready?" Alex asked. "He phoned a lawyer. We don't have much time," she said.

"Yeah, just a… just a minute," Bobby muttered. He rooted quickly through his binder and studied a picture of little Zoe. "Okay, ready," he announced, and they entered the interrogation room.

Not five minutes in, Dylan said "I had to babysit my kids."

"Oh, I love when men say they have to babysit," Alex said. She stared Dylan down. "If they're your kids, it's not babysitting. It's called being a Dad."

"How many do you have?" Bobby asked.

"Two."

"Three, though, right?" Bobby asked again. "Counting Zoe, that's three?" The man seemed shocked. "You have the same ears, got the same brow," Bobby explained. "Look, we could do a blood test," Bobby offered, and finally the man started to talk, only to be stopped by the arrival of his lawyer.

It turned out his lawyer was also his wife, and she had no idea that he'd had an affair.

"Your husband is the father of Isabel's 18 month old child," Alex announced.

The lawyer dropped her role as a lawyer immediately. She was honest with them, and Dylan had no alibi. "I'm going to go pick up our son from social services," the woman said. "And get yourself a new attorney. Two: criminal, and divorce," she growled at him.

He got to his feet and would have followed her out, but he was stopped by a snap and Bobby's pointing finger.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Dylan was a bust. He legally signed away his parental rights when Zoe was in utero. Even with Isabel's death, he had no claim to Zoe or her inheritance.

Alex and Bobby met with the Harrington's former attorney next. No longer working, he spent his time in his greenhouse, growing flowers. At first he was resistant, but when Bobby showed him the crime scene photo of Isabel, he buckled. He was the one who had convinced Dylan to turn over his parental rights.

He gave them some insight into the Harrington family, but stood firm about attorney/client privilege. There were some questions he simply would not answer. It turned out the man had been fired by Lady Harrington's son. He did not believe the matriarch had anything to do with his termination or the death of Isabel.

Suddenly, the detectives saw the potential that the murderer was someone in her own family.

They spoke with Ernest Foley next, son of Lady Harrington, who was very clear to make it known that he was a Harrington by blood, if not by name. He ran a dance studio and had plans to add to the performance space.

Eames asked him whose money would pay for the expansion. He implied that there should have been no concerns about the family trust; that his mother had provided well for all of them, with instructions that they pay it forward.

Eames inquired about the woman's health, and though Ernest didn't give her a straight answer, he made it sound as if her health was failing.

* * *

"Yeah, Ma, everything's fine here." As Bobby spoke, he opened the door and Alex came in with a couple of bags of take-out. "Yeah, it's okay, they gave me leave for that." Bobby shut the door. "It's okay, Ma."

Alex put the food on the table and gave him a smile as she brought the Styrofoam containers out of the bags.

Bobby's contented face darkened a little. "No, I haven't heard from him. I'm sorry." Bobby listened a while longer. "Yeah, I'll keep trying. You know, maybe Frank's… maybe he's out of town or something…" Bobby became fidgety, but he listened respectfully. "Okay, look, Ma, I gotta go. I'm glad you had a good day. I love you." He smiled once more and tapped the button to end the call.

Alex smiled at him again as he sauntered in and sat down at the table.

"Eames, uh, thanks for… you know, what you did around here," he said, glancing around at his apartment.

She gave him a shrug. "I was bored. You want salad?"

He nodded and she slid the box his way so he could dish some onto his plate. "She… she had a good day."

"That's great, Bobby."

They ate a while in silence, and then he added. "She's still asking about Frank."

"Your brother."

He nodded, and then dropped his fork on his plate. "I-I guess I understand it. He is her son, she probably just wants to know… to see he made it, that she did her job."

Alex frowned. "But she can't count on that."

"She can't count on _him._ None of us can."

Alex reached out and caressed Bobby's hand. "Thank God she has you," she said quietly. He shook his head and began eating again. Alex spoke once more. "Maybe he'll turn up…"

* * *

Grant Harrington wasn't very forthcoming. According to him, his mother wasn't always lucid, had her good days and bad days. According to him, the decision to fire the lawyer was his mother's. They headed out to speak with Grant's wife, more sure than ever that something fishy was going on in the Harrington family.

It looked like they were moving. The woman was directing things be brought out of the house and loaded into trucks. She said it was to take some of Lady Harrington's things to the city. She said the elder woman spent most of her time in the city and wanted more of her things there.

They almost caught a lie about firing the lawyer. From the way this woman spoke, Lady Harrington was incapable of making decisions, but when Eames asked about firing the lawyer, the woman replied, "Lady Harrington is still the matriarch of this family. Her son does what she asks."

* * *

Back at 1PP, they brought in Josh Simmons to go over the finances with them. He'd been looking into the Harringtons for two days now and had a handle on the big picture.

Bobby felt a flash of indignance go through him when Josh revealed how much money the Harringtons had brought in selling the matriarch's things: Twenty Million dollars.

After the presentation and a cup of coffee, they were all in agreement with Captain Ross. "Find out if she's really signing these papers or if they're robbing her grave before she's even in it."

* * *

The New York apartment was impressive. Alex admitted, "As a little girl, I used to dream of living this way."

"It's musty in here, though. You see the dead flies in the lamp." Bobby looked around. "Fake flowers." For a moment, he looked at his lover. "I hope you got over that," he said. She showed him a quick grin before they moved back to their police personas.

"Mr. Grant will be right with you," the assistant told them.

"Actually, we were hoping to speak with Lady Harrington," Alex said, approaching the woman.

"He said he'll be right with you," she repeated with a smile.

Bobby looked her over. A touch of an accent, dark hair and eyes, what looked to be a medical uniform. "Are you Helena Arcenas?" he asked, and she nodded. "Can we talk to you for a minute about those papers you signed for Lady Harrington?" She looked worried, and he added. "We won't tell Mrs. Cheryl."

"They just told me to sign."

"Do you know what you signed?"

She shook her head. "The woman before me? She asked questions, she was fired."

"Do you know her name?" Alex asked.

"Birdie? Like…" She flapped her arms a little, and Grant Harrington appeared behind her.

"Thank you, Helena," he called out. She ducked her head down and hurried away.

Bobby gave Alex a look, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. They were going to see Lady Harrington, one way or another, no matter what her son told them.

He politely brushed them off, told them she couldn't be seen today.

"Well, if she's indisposed, she's indisposed, I don't know," Bobby said quietly, and walked away toward the huge window.

Grant walked Alex closer to the front entrance, yammering something about the old woman's pride. Bobby walked stooped over, studying the lines between the floor tiles. He was closer to the old woman's room, now.

"Detective, what are you doing?" Grant asked, as Bobby touched a portion of the floor with his hand.

He stayed hunched over, and waved a hand in the direction of his partner. "Eames you remember how we were talking about, uh, terra cotta tile?"

"Yes!" She said, smiling, as if they'd ever had such a conversation.

"Italian marble inlay," Bobby said.

"He's a tile buff," she explained to Harrington, turning away slightly, drawing his attention her way.

"Oh, that's nice," Harrington began, but when he turned back, Bobby was already opening the door to the bedroom. "No! No!" he cried. "Detective, I have to ask you not to disturb my mother!"

His wife Cheryl was sitting in the room, reading the paper in front of the tv, smoking a cigarette.

Bobby spoke. "Grant was just a little too concerned with shutting the door," he explained to her as she rushed to her feet.

"You can't come in here," Cheryl protested.

Bobby ignored her and walked to the old woman in the bed. He saw his own mother in his mind for a split second. "You know, actually," he continued, "this home reeks of everything but concern." Bobby took the old woman's hand in his, and both Harringtons tried to get him to stop touching the ill woman.

"What do you think you're doing? You can't touch her!" Grant said.

"Stop it!" Bobby warned. He picked up her hand again and looked her over. "She is clearly dehydrated," he said.

"I didn't realize you were a doctor, detective!" Grant smarted off.

"This is how you treat your mother?!" Bobby retorted, raising his voice. "She's flushed, her skin is dry." Alex walked in. "Eames, we're going to need an ambulance."

"You have no right to barge in here and start demanding ambulances," Grant announced.

"Shut up!" Bobby snapped. Again, he thought of his own mother. He was barely containing his rage.

Eames picked up the phone. "I'd shut up if I were you," she told Harrington.

"Detectives, get out of my home!"

Bobby was in a rage. "I said to shut up, so sit down and shut up!" He shouted with a finger up in warning.

At least Harrington had the sense to listen this time. Bobby laid his hand gently over the old woman's, trying to channel his emotions in another direction.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

It was Bridie, not Birdie. The woman was truly concerned about Lady Harrington, and was pleased to hear she was doing well since the officers found her. In her Irish Brogue, she asked bluntly, "Were they trying to hasten her death?"

Bobby glanced at Alex. Given his own mother's condition, every time he thought about the Harringtons, his temper flared.

"Grant and Cheryl fired their home care worker. They blame it all on her," Alex answered, sparing him the need to.

This didn't surprise the woman. She told them Grant and Cheryl wanted her to sign as a witness to the sale of Lady Harrington's home in Westport, and when she refused, they fired her.

The detectives learned that Isabel found out what was going on three months earlier. Isabel's response was that she was going to go public with an article about her family.

Thanks to Alex's computer prowess, they found out that Isabel had been researching her Grandmother's medications, but also her own mother's death. According to the obituary, Lissie Harrington died of a heart arrhythmia 18 years ago. They found out Isabel had searched for the medications Mellaril and Hismanal.

Rodgers told them there had been no autopsy on Lissie Harrington, and no one even looked at the toxicology report until Isabel Harrington requested it three months ago. Sure enough, she'd had both drugs in her system.

"An antipsychotic with that antihistamine? That's a lethal combination," Goren noted, and Rodgers agreed.

"No doctor should have prescribed them at the same time and no doctor should have attributed her death to natural causes," Elizabeth continued, obviously disgusted by the situation.

Alex looked at Bobby. He'd been right again. Now they were working on two murders.

* * *

As they sat in the crowded cafeteria of 1PP, Alex studied her partner. Bobby was feeling the strain again. He hadn't said anything more about his mother, except that she seemed to be okay for now. He hadn't mentioned his brother, either, except that he'd still had no word… so it had to be the case.

She couldn't blame him. Alex knew that his family was dysfunctional, at best, but she also knew that Bobby loved his mother. She knew that the woman, in spite of her mental illness, had raised at least one son to be a caring, compassionate, brilliant, upstanding man. She'd raised him right.

And these Harringtons were the scum of the earth in her opinion. She knew without asking that Bobby thought the same thing.

He caught her looking his way, and she lowered her gaze, picking at the remnants of her sandwich. Alex didn't know exactly what Bobby was going through. The only loss in her life that even came close was her maternal grandmother, and she'd only been a teenager then. Her family had sheltered her from seeing her grandmother's slow decline.

When Joe died, he was taken from her suddenly. It had been horrible, but it was a very different kind of loss. When her mother had the stroke, she'd hung on for three days in the hospital before she passed away. Time enough to say goodbye, but not this long, slow kind of suffering that her partner was going through.

She glanced at him again. "What?" he asked.

Alex scoffed. "These people," was all she said.

He nodded his agreement. "We have to decide how to approach Grant. You can bet he'll bring his counsel."

"He's not gonna talk. He's shrewd. He's gotten away with murder. He'll be overconfident about this."

Bobby nodded, and the wheels kept spinning in his brain. "We know Cheryl is involved in the conspiracy… the pilfering…" He thought a moment, then spoke again. "We don't know yet about Ernest's involvement."

"Ernest isn't even a Harrington. I'll bet Grant would be willing to talk about him."

"So we… we confront him. Play hardball, tell him what he's up against."

Alex nodded. "He'll be more than happy to throw someone else under the bus."

The decision made, they went back to the last scraps of their meal. Again, Bobby caught her looking at him. "What?"

"Did you get that FMLA paperwork in?"

Bobby nodded. "I had to, you know, fax it back and forth, but yeah. It's done. It's in."

With a frown, Alex nodded.

* * *

"You don't know what's going on here, do you?" Bobby asked. "I mean between your first wife's overdose, your mother's neglect, your daughter's death… you are _at best_ looking like the angel of death."

Grant Harrington, with the blessing of his lawyer, started off by trying to blame Lissie's depression on Isabel's birth.

Alex called him on it. The window of manifestation of Post Partum depression was about two years. "Post partum?" She asked. "Isabel was 7 when she died."

"That's correct. It was seven years of hell."

"Hell for you?" Bobby asked, punctuating his words with the pen in his hand. "Or hell for her?"

Bobby asked what the man had done for his wife, how he'd tried to help. Although they were in an interview room, Bobby acted as if they were in interrogation. He circled the table, stood right behind Harrington, asked his questions into one ear, then bobbed his head and asked in the other. The man admitted she'd been on the antipsychotic, Mellaril. He alleged that she was paranoid and delusional.

"Is that your diagnosis? Or the Doctors? Whose?"

"Maybe he gave her something to be paranoid about," Alex suggested, and Bobby could have leapt for joy. Alex always knew how to play it. "Cheating?"

Harrington shook his head and said she was paranoid about the money, that it wouldn't last.

"Or was she suspicious of you managing the finances?" Bobby pressed.

"Not of me, detective. Of Ernest and my mother. She wanted me to cut them off."

Bobby raised a hand to scratch his ear and Alex simmered. _There's that bus,_ she thought. "Their charitable contributions," Bobby said, and Grant added details about what charities his family was supporting at the time.

Bobby recapped the tale of Lissie's overdose. "Where were you?" he asked.

"On a boat in the Galapagos." Bobby looked to his partner, a touch of surprise on his face. The two detectives shared some sarcastic comments.

"Yet you know it was a suicide."

Grant told the story almost exactly as they expected to hear it, inserting that Lissie had been drinking into the storyline.

Alex looked up at Bobby, then asked about other medications, allergies. She even asked if Grant had allergies.

He said no and reiterated that his wife's death had been a suicide.

Bobby thought in silence a moment, then shared a furious glance with his partner. They were both wondering the same thing: _where did the Hismanal come from?_

* * *

He wasn't planning to stay with Alex that night, but they started a movie after he called his mother, and before she knew it he was sound asleep on the couch.

Alex tried to rouse him, but she got nothing more than some incoherent mumbling. With a smile, she threw a blanket over him and went to bed.

His voice woke her in the middle of the night. Alex sat up in the bed, feeling the sheet slip down her arms and land on her lap.

"Where are you?" Bobby was nearly shouting. "No. No, Frank, I can't hear you. Where are you? Frank? Frank?"

Alex hurried from the bedroom and stood by as Bobby's hand dropped from his ear. He looked defeated. "It… it wasn't long enough for a trace. Sounded like… sounded like a bar or something."

She walked forward and gently touched his arm.

Another thought struck him, and he slouched even more. "I didn't even tell him about Mom."

The furrows above her nose appeared and she nodded, still rubbing his arm. "At least you know he has your number," was the only thing she could think of to say.

Bobby shook himself, as if he was releasing himself from the guilt. His eyes roamed from her bare feet all the way up to her face. "I woke you. I'm sorry."

She gave him a smile. "It's okay. Come to bed."

In that instant, he realized sleeping over hadn't been in the plans at all. He looked out the window at the dark sky and nodded quietly. Bobby took her hand and followed her to the bedroom.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Lady Harrington was in a complete recovery. She welcomed them to her home, and Bobby was truly happy to see her up and about. He smiled and gave her his hand to steady her as she came down the last few steps.

Apparently, her family had told her that she'd had a reaction to her medications and only Detective Goren had noticed the severity of her need. "It's a terrible shock," she said, "to gain my health only to find out that my Granddaughter was murdered. She was my joy." Lady Harrington almost broke into tears as she spoke of Isabel.

They expressed condolences, and the old woman asked them about Lissie. "Grant told you that?" Alex asked after throwing Bobby a look.

"No," she said. "I deduced it. Why else would you be talking to my son about an 18 year old suicide?"

Bobby admitted she was right. Then he said, "But Grant believes that Lissie killed herself. And you don't."

"If she were going to take her own life, she would never have done it with Isabel in the apartment," Lady Harrington explained.

When asked why she didn't ask for an autopsy, the woman didn't answer. Bobby surmised it was to protect her family name.

"You never suspected your son?" Goren asked.

"Of course not!" Lady Harrington replied.

Bobby asked her about allergies. At first she said no, but then she remembered that her first husband had allergies. Goren clarified that was Ernest's father. "Did Ernest have allergies?" Bobby asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "Ernest had nannies."

An announcement from the newly rehired Bridie that her car was waiting brought the old woman to her feet. She told them they had reopened her Westport home and would be celebrating her homecoming that evening with a party. "It's just a terrible tragedy that Isabel won't be there."

Alex was sick and tired of the snobbery. "Well, the tragedy is if you had said something 18 years ago, Isabel might still be alive."

Lady Harrington faced her, then looked down her nose at Eames, but said nothing.

Bobby remained silent as well. He thought Alex had been too harsh, but he also knew that the formidable Lady Harrington had raised her shrewd son. She was no longer a helpless old lady.

* * *

Ross met them in the bullpen and walked them to his office. "His father had allergies, so you think Ernest Foley may be good for a double family murder 18 years apart."

"Yeah, that's one-one-one theory," Bobby said. "Has anybody ever told you you're reductive?"

Alex squirmed. After all this, the tiny bit of progress Bobby had made with the Captain may have just been obliterated.

"My ex-wife," Ross said, dry as ever. "Eames, walk me through this slowly," he said, ignoring the big man who'd just insulted him.

She went through the first theory, that Ernest's philanthropy was threatened by the possibility that Lissie would cut him off. Ross asked for the other, and she told him Grant and Cheryl plundered the family trust and overmedicated Lady Harrington so she would sign away most of her real estate to cover their debt.

Alex tossed out the idea that they should crash the Harrington party. Ross gave them a nod of approval, and they were back out the door.

"Time to get gussied up," Bobby told her with a grin.

"I have the perfect little black dress," she smiled back.

* * *

Bobby had already told her she looked beautiful, but as he followed her up the sidewalk to the Harrington's front door, he noticed again. He watched her hips sway as she walked, and he wholeheartedly wished they weren't on duty.

Ernest saw them enter and headed straight for Bobby. As her partner ducked and dodged the rich man's hands, Eamed took a few hurried steps and was all the way in. With a fake and a pivot, Bobby was right beside her.

Grant stopped them next. He tried to detour them to the kitchen; they weren't to be seen hobnobbing with the Harringtons. "Lady Harrington invited us," Alex announced, wearing a Cheshire grin. Bobby cracked a smile as well.

It was played perfectly. They were absolutely right when they thought Lady Harrington would rather let them stay a few minutes than have a scene trying to throw them out. Ernest balked, and Grant seemed surprised, but Lady Harrington walked up gracefully and acted as if she had been expecting them all along.

She introduced them to the entire group as the detectives who saved her life. Her guests clapped for them, and Bobby hung his head, blushing shyly. Grant was on board right away, and made his own announcement of gratitude.

Alex made her own announcement, to Ernest and Grant, that they may have a break in the case. The old woman's love for Isabel was sincere. She wanted to hear the news.

Alex announced that Isabel's investigative piece wasn't missing after all, that she'd mailed herself a copy. Bobby sat down to watch the story play out.

Cheryl tried to minimize the importance of the document, and the matriarch gave her a firm warning. "Don't push it." Lady Harrington turned to Alex. "What was she writing about?"

"She was writing about the Harringtons," Alex said, a little too happily, a little to loudly.

Ernest minimized, calling it a memoir. "She must have thought the only way to make it as a writer was to betray the Harrington name," he told his mother.

"It was less of a memoir than it was a mystery," Bobby said from his perch on the settee. "Isabel was convinced that her mother's death wasn't an accident."

Ernest started talking, but Grant stopped him. He told his mother what he'd shared with the police about Lissie's depression. Lady Harrington admitted that if she had said something all those years ago, Isabel may not have been killed.

"Mother," Grant said. "Lissie's suicide had nothing to do with Isabel's death."

Ernest stuck to the family fable. "No, she had a heart arrhythmia," he repeated.

Bobby quietly explained the interaction of the meds to Ernest.

Alex reminded them all that Lissie had no allergies. "We're trying to figure out how she could have had access to Hismanal." The conversation that followed revealed that Ernest had allergies.

"Fine. I have allergies. I'm on medications," Ernest said, growing angry. "What meds are you on, Detective," he asked Bobby, who simply grinned.

Alex asked more about his allergies and he revealed he was allergic to flowers. He then announced that if he had gone to confront Isabel about her lies, he never would have brought her a bouquet of flowers.

The detectives waited. "How;d you know about the flowers, Ernest?" Alex asked.

The Harringtons balked. Ernest stammered.

Lady Harrington cried out and drew the attention of all her guests. Alex and Bobby continued to interrogate him. Bobby spelled out his motive. Ernest moved closer to the old woman, and Bobby readied his hand at Foley's shoulder.

Lady Harrington accused Ernest of being unworthy of the Harrington family. This resulted in a fight between the brothers. Grant started to shout "You killed my daughter!" Bobby got between the men, saying, "All right, back off."

Ernest and his mother had more words, and Bobby started to pull him away from her. He kept trying to move closer, even when his mother called him a monster. Bobby kept a firm grip on Foley. The man was bigger than he was. "Hey. Put your hands behind your back," Bobby commanded.

"Can we do this outside?" Ernest asked. All of the party guests were watching.

"No we cannot. We'll do it right here. Ernest Foley, you're under arrest for the murder of Willem Vanderhoeven, and Lissie and Isabel Harrington. All right," Bobby said, transferring the man to the uniformed officers Alex had just called in. "All right."

"My life," Lady Harrington cried, "What happened to my life?"

Bobby hooked his hands behind his back and gave Eames a quick glance as he headed for the front door. He was done with these people, all of them. Eames took a deep breath and gave them all one more glance. She was done, too.

* * *

"Hi, Ma," Bobby said.

"Bobby! Where's your brother?" She asked, looking behind him.

Bobby shrugged.

"I hope he's okay."

"I'm sure he's okay."

"Bobby, you've talked to him?" She asked, searching her son's face.

Bobby took a deep breath and his eyes danced all over the room. Finally, he gave her a slight nod.

"That's good! My word! How is he, Bobby? Tell me!"

"He sounded… he sounded… busy," he said, the only thing he could think of that wouldn't be a lie.

"Busy." She was beside herself with joy. "He must be working, then. Maybe he's finally out of this slump he's been in."

"Maybe," Bobby agreed, feeling a little sick.

"What? Whatsa matter? You're moping."

"I'm-I'm-I'm not moping, Ma."

"You're moping. Robert Goren, you're jealous. You're jealous of your brother!"

"I'm not j-jealous, Ma."

"You're stuttering. I could always tell when you were fibbing to me. That stutter was a sure giveaway."

"Well," he said, being overly careful not to allow the words to bounce as he spoke. "I'm not stuttering. And I'm not jealous."

She narrowed her eyes. "You've learned a lot of tricks as a Detective, haven't you? Like lying?"

Bobby's eyes flitted past hers, then found a nice chink in the edge of a floor tile to stare at.

* * *

"That Harrington business, eh?" Alex's father asked. "I'm glad, Alex. I'm proud of you."

"Look, Dad, I can't… talk about it."

He bumped her arm with his hand. "I know you can't. How's Bobby?"

She was relieved to have a change of subject, but she was surprised her father asked. "He's… you know, he's okay."

"Lexie," her father said, his voice quieter. "I haven't made any judgements against him. He's a good man, and a friend to you, and that's all that matters to me."

She smiled quietly. "He wouldn't like me to share his business." Her father nodded. He wouldn't bring it up again without an invitation. "But his mother, she has cancer. And you know, he's holding up all right, but it seems like there's always something making it hard for him."

"There is no such thing as 'easy' when someone you love has cancer."

Alex smiled at her Dad. "Yeah," she said.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The next case they picked up had to do with the murder of a judge. The State Senator, Maureen Pagolis was very close to it all, and her husband turned out to be their chief suspect.

In spite of a warning from Captain Ross to keep her personal feelings from clouding her judgment, Eames was having a hard time. She had admired and respected Maureen Pagolis since her academy days, when the woman was a rising star on the political scene. She was a keynote at Eames' graduation from the academy.

Eames was professional throughout it all, but Bobby caught the little looks, the droop of her shoulders, the closing of her fists when she didn't like the direction their investigation took them. Over the last week, Alex had pulled away from him. He hadn't stayed over since his last visit to his mother. He hadn't had a non-working dinner with her in three days.

Now, they had a pile of evidence pointing to Pagolis' husband, George. And they'd found out Maureen had been recording the man's conversations whenever possible. Ross had laid it out simply. If the only place she recorded him was in their home, fine; otherwise, she'd broken the law.

Tonight, Bobby and Alex found themselves at a swanky bar, hoping to talk to the coat check girl. Bobby ordered a Glenlivet, and then looked at Alex. Again, he saw the distance she was placing between them. As her phone rang and she snatched it up to answer, he asked the bartender to wait and then wondered if their little romance was at an end.

"Vodka martini double, easy on the vermouth," Alex said, and the bartender hurried away. "That was the Captain. He threatened to go public and she caved on the tapes." She sneered a little. "You happy now?"

Bobby closed his eyes and sighed. Sometimes Alex was all claw. "I want Pagolis to go down, but not if he didn't do it."

"Either way, she'll go down now. You know this will leak out. Her career's ruined."

"Well, then she shouldn't have bugged him," Bobby said, and added simply, "She should have left him." Alex looked away then, and Bobby felt the icy breeze between them. He was keeping it together, but he felt something was coming unraveled in his chest. "Are we all right?" He asked quietly, and braced himself for her answer.

Alex gave him eye contact, at least. She smiled sadly, nodded, and answered, "I hope so."

He nodded once, feeling the relief. He didn't think he could take it if he lost her now.

The coat check girl arrived, and they questioned her. This led them to the driver, who easily confessed to the murder.

Eames was still concerned for Maureen. She lamented that her husband was going to skate. Ross reminded her that they couldn't assume she had nothing to do with it and ordered them to go talk to the Senator, to find out more.

She told them about listening to her husband's affair, how it hurt but she couldn't stop herself. Bobby prodded, holding the bugged pen in the air, the one that had passed from George to the driver.

"That pen, I gave that to my husband," she said.

"And he gave it to Dave-O, who had it with him all the time."

The senator gaped. She realized her mistake.

"Even while hiring the sniper… while watching the rehearsal with the sniper… while telling the sniper to kill the guy in gray." She started to cry, and he kept talking. "You heard him, didn't you? You heard Dave-O arranging to kill your husband, didn't you?"

"Yes. On the tapes. I heard that."

In that moment, the pedestal Alex had placed Pagolis on came down with a crash.

She admitted that she decided to let the father of her children just die. When she saw that they'd traded coats, she was immobilized by fear, by trying how to keep her hands clean.

Alex offered to go with her while she dressed, but the woman's strength returned. "I'm fine, it's okay," Pagolis said.

Alex felt her own emotions bubbling over as she watched her walk up the stairs. Bobby was still there, she knew. He wasn't standing by with a quick "I told you so," or a smug grin. He was simply standing by her, giving her space to gather her own strength. He wouldn't arrest Pagolis, either. He would let Alex do that.

* * *

Bobby sent her flowers. Sometimes, Alex just needed to be a woman, and not a cop. He didn't impose on her, he only sent the flowers and then went to his neighborhood bar for a drink with Logan.

"Bobby, how's it going?"

"Okay, thanks."

"I, uh, I heard about your mother. I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do-"

"You can't."

Logan nodded, and the men ordered their drinks. "How's Eames?"

"Fine," Bobby said honestly, with a nod. "It's almost like it never happened."

"Good."

"How's Wheeler?"

"She's… she's pretty good, even if she does look just this side of fifteen."

Bobby grinned. "They don't ask people to Major Case for nothing," he said.

Mike smiled, too, and remembered how he'd suddenly been asked to transfer in. Somehow he knew Goren and Eames had something to do with it.

* * *

"Uh… hi." Bobby pressed his fingers into his closed eyes as he waited to her hear voice. It had been a week since they tried to spend any time on their relationship, on each other. After his rough day with his mother, he needed her.

"Hi."

The silence was long. Bobby, the one who'd made the call, broke it. "Uh, I thought maybe we could… maybe I should talk."

"Something's happened." Alex said. "Is it your Mom?"

He nodded, not that she would know that. "She, uh… we had to shave her head. Her hair, uh… her hair, it was f-f-falling out, and it w-was…"

"Oh, Bobby, I'm sorry… How did she take it?"

"She… she cried. She's had long hair all her life, Alex. She… I tried to save her braid, but she threw it in the trash. She didn't want it."

"Where are you, Bobby? You could come over."

"I'm… I'm at Carmel Ridge." He wouldn't be coming over.

"Did you get her a wig?"

"The-the-the nurses… they told me to… t-tomorrow. I- they put a, uhm… handkerchief, you know…"

Alex closed her eyes and frowned. She wanted to put her arms around him. "Bobby?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the need to punch something. Goren's face turned red and he balled up his free hand into a fist.

A silence fell over them, and Alex finally reached out to break it. "I wish I was with you, Bobby. At least I could… show you how I feel."

"It's… it's… yeah. Me too."

"Are you all right?"

He fidgeted. He was feeling worse than he had in weeks. "Life is pain, right?" he said quietly, then cleared his throat. "Look, yeah, forget it, I'm okay. I'm okay, Alex."

"Call me tomorrow?"

"Sure."


	26. Chapter 26

A/N I've never felt the need to do the whole disclaimer thing, but the farther I go with this story, the more I think I should. I am taking a lot of conversations and actions directly from the series, and then having fun filling in what I think might have gone on behind the scenes. Thank you to all the LOCI writers, creators, actors, etc for doing such a fantastic job. Thank you for not suing me because I want to play with your characters. I promise I'm not making any money off of this.

Chapter 26

"Oh, boy… This preacher… he's just another big phony." Frances Goren said, as she and Bobby watched the news in her hospital room. She was in for another round of chemo.

She tapped Bobby's arm with a wooden stick she held in her hand and pointed at the screen. Bobby turned to her. "You know, he wants a Constitutional Amendment to ban gay marriage." She used the stick to scratch her scalp just under the edge of the wig. Frances chuckled. "I'd sure like to see what goes on in that bedroom." Bobby turned back to the tv and his mother asked, "Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not defending him," Bobby said with a shrug.

"They're charlatans, these people," she continued, gesturing with the stick again. "He's supposed to be a believer, in which case he's supposed to believe that God had a reason for her death, right?"

Bobby tucked his chin down, listening to her logic. He couldn't disagree.

"So why is he crying?" She asked, and then tossed the stick on her bedside table.

Bobby's wheels were spinning. No, he couldn't disagree with her. He gave her a smile before turning his attention back to the screen once more. He felt her fingers tighten on his sleeve as Dr. Sylveste entered the room.

"What is he doing here?!"

"Dr. Sylveste," Bobby greeted him as he stepped out of the way. His mother fought to get her wrist away from the Doctor's grip.

"I see the patient's her usual shy self," the Doctor commented, as he wrestled to manipulate her wrist.

"No!" She cried out, and pulled her hand free.

Bobby's face was full of pain. He looked at the floor and tried to remind himself that his mother was a difficult patient… that these treatments were necessary. He scratched his head and took a step toward the door before his mother called him back.

"Bobby?"

"Yes?"

"I want to go back to my room."

"I know, Mom."

"You know, everybody tiptoes around me? You know why? Because on my chart, it says…" She pointed with her finger at the foot of the bed. "It says that I'm a schizophrenic. So, in that case, why don't they just send me back to my room in the nuthouse?" She raised her eyes to her son's. "Not a hospital. Not a hospice."

"You're almost there, Mrs. Goren," Dr. Sylveste said, as Bobby searched her eyes sadly. "She's handling the chemo very well," the Doctor told Bobby.

"Oh, I really am," she said yanking at the wig with her fingers. "Look at this!" Her face grew angry and she pointed a finger for emphasis as she spoke. "Now, listen! I am done with all of this! You tell them that!" She commanded her son.

Bobby felt like he had a rock in his gut. He nodded, and kept his voice calm. "Okay. I'll do that."

"Good."

"I'll tell them. I'll do that, okay?" He said, taking his mother's hand. She grasped his with both of hers, seemingly relieved that she'd been heard. "We're gonna go outside for a minute, okay?" Bobby told her. He started for the door.

"If your brother were here, I wouldn't have gone through all this."

"Ma, I'm just gonna be out here," Bobby called, trying to reassure her. The Doctor stepped out ahead of him.

"He would have taken care of me," she continued.

Once in the hallway, the Doctor turned to Bobby. "She really is doing quite well with her treatment," he repeated.

"Dr. Sylveste, I have to say, I felt you were a bit rough with her in there."

"Excuse me?"

"When you came in…" Bobby shook his head. This wasn't a time or place to make enemies. "Look… I know my mother, she can be… difficult. And I know, maybe you're… you're in a hurry, got lots of other patients to see… but when you came in, you didn't even talk to her before you took her hand. She's… she's skittish, you know. It helps to… give her some warning ahead of time."

"I'm sorry if it appeared that way to you, Mr. Goren. I can assure you, I am taking very good care of your mother."

"I know you are. I know. I'd just… I'd feel better if I knew you were… sensitive to her… you know, emotionally."

"I understand," the Doctor said with a smile.

* * *

Bobby arrived to work the next morning to find out their case was indeed a homicide. Eames had already been there an hour, and she was all over it. She updated the Captain and her partner on everything she'd discovered. They had evidence of the murder and a possible suspect already.

He was a call guy. Alex pulled up the website and Bobby had to smile. There was a photo of him in nothing but a thong and an overcoat. Bold letters declared, "Rent this hunk!"

The Captain read it aloud, and Bobby had to smile again. "We can all read, Captain," he said.

Alex asked questions, pulling the two men back from their latest pissing contest.

They brought the man in and found out the preacher was his client. He was trying to blackmail them get the man to back off on all his comments about homosexuality being the work of Satan. He told them the preacher liked Crystal Meth. He'd left a DVD on the victim's chair.

Diego also told them that Cal, the preacher not only hated himself, but Diego thought he was going to be killed one time.

Bobby said, "Well, we're gonna need a copy of this DVD."

Diego's lawyer spoke up. "You don't have it."

Alex smiled slightly. "We appreciate your telling us about it."

The lawyer put her hand over her client's mouth. "Detectives, we may be able to produce a copy, but that's subject to negotiation. My client's invoking."

After a quick talk with the Captain, they were on their way to visit Cal. Bobby was a font of biblical humor. "Your cup runneth over," he told the man as he spilled his drink.

They showed him a picture of Diego and he denied knowing him. But both detectives saw the fear in the Reverend's eyes. The preacher dug himself deep with the lies, and Alex filled him in bit by bit on the parts they already knew. Then Bobby dropped the bomb. "We have other photos." The preacher said he was a professional massage therapist. Alex had to turn away. She was disgusted by liars, especially supposed holy men who lied.

She called him on his lies. She told him they had records of cell phone calls from the preacher to the Rentboy.

He lied again. He said he had horrible back pain and he would close his eyes.

"And wait for that booty bump," Bobby finished for the man.

"There's a lady in the room, Detective," Cal said.

"I'll wait outside," Alex announced as she got to her feet. Bobby simply sat with his ankle resting on his knee and his binder perched, ready to collect some notes.

Alex got some good info, but Bobby was cut off by one of the church elders, who came in to whisk the Reverend away to a meeting.

They were almost to the car when Bobby saw him. He had to stop and stare a moment. The last time he'd seen his brother, he'd been healthier, more filled out. Bobby stared, and Alex noticed. Without a word to her, he stepped forward.

Frank was in the line for the shelter. He didn't budge because he didn't want to lose his place. "Hey, Bobby," he said, a spark in his eye.

Bobby glanced over at Alex, only for a second. He shook his head, astounded. It took Bobby a few seconds to find his voice. He walked forward, closer to his brother. "What are you doing here?"

Frank took the risk and stepped out of the queue. "Church people, they're good people, man."

"Yeah, I know."

"They got me clean," Frank announced. He was bundled in two light jackets, with a ragged beanie on his head. He was cold. He continued. "…feed me. I would've been dead a long time ago if it weren't for them. I mean it."

A silence fell upon them. Frank's eyes strayed to Alex, and he greeted her. "How you doin'?" he asked.

Alex nodded, not sure what was happening in front of her.

"So how's Mom?" Frank asked, and realization struck Eames.

Bobby glanced around and bit his lip. He closed his eyes, wondering how he should break it to his brother.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Bobby pressed his lips together and finally said, "You-you've been gone a long time, Frank."

The shorter man nodded, and his expression lost some of its lustre. "Drugs'll do that," he said quietly. "Thank God for the Church."

Bobby reached back and scratched his head. "Uh, Mom, she's… she's got cancer, Frank. She's-she's in a hospital up in Carmel Ridge."

Frank's face filled with worry. "Cancer… Jesus, Bobby…"

"You know, she called you. I called you. You didn't check your phone?"

"My phone? Frank said. "No, I got into a thing with the phone company. If she left messages, I'm sure they have them, but they won't let me access them."

"Yeah… sure…" Bobby said, realizing again that his brother was probably homeless.

"So, how sick is she?"

"It's not good. I've been looking into experimental… She's not good. It's Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma… stage 4."

"Is she-?"

"She's, you know, she's fighting… but… Frank, they're only giving her months to live, even with the chemo."

"You should try prayer, Bobby. It works miracles."

The two men were becoming engrossed in their conversation. Alex gave Bobby the once-over, and decided he was holding up pretty well. She quietly stepped back to the car, retreating to its shelter from the icy wind.

Alex dug into her pocket and withdrew the keys. She started the engine, earning a glance from her partner. Satisfied she wasn't going anywhere, he turned back to Frank and they continued talking.

As the air in the car slowly warmed, she found herself replaying the information she'd just heard. Bobby had told her about Frank, at least some of it. She'd known he was an addict. She knew he was a scientist, that he'd gotten a Bachelor's in chemistry or something. She knew he'd never finished grad school.

She didn't know he was homeless. She didn't know he was so very different from Bobby. He wasn't tall or big like Bobby. Compared to his brother, he seemed kind of mousy, not at all what she'd expected. He was Bobby's "Big Brother," after all.

She could see that Bobby was starting to get excited about finding him. She looked at the state Frank was in, and touched the pendant at her neck. She hoped Bobby wouldn't put too much faith in his brother. She hoped he wasn't setting himself up for disappointment.

Frank turned and he and Bobby looked down the sidewalk for a moment. "That's my old lady over there," he said. She approached with a couple of coffees in a box. She stopped short when she saw Frank with the tall stranger. He laughed. "She's a little shy." Frank stared at the car. "That woman, is that your wife?"

Bobby chuckled, looking over at Alex, who was waiting patiently in the car. "That's my partner."

"So what are you waiting for?"

"No, it's not that kind of… partner." His emotions were churning up now, and he had to change the subject. "Look, I'm going to see Mom on Sunday. I'm thinking that maybe we could…go together and see her. You know? We could meet…here?"

"Yeah, I know it's her birthday, right?"

"Yeah."

Frank shook his head. "No, man, I don't think so. I got…" he looked down. The truth was he didn't want his mother to see him like this. "You know, I'm a little… short this month."

"Yeah, well, look, uh…"

"I don't think that…"

"No, it's all right. It's all right. It's okay, look here…" Bobby withdrew a wad of cash from his pocket. He started to count some, but then just tucked the whole wad into his brother's pocket. "Look, just take this, all right?"

"I'm gonna pay you back on Sunday, okay?" Frank said. "Huh?"

Bobby nodded, and just gave his brother a smile. He didn't care about the money. He cared about his brother.

"So meet me right here? The crack of noon?"

Bobby broke into a full smile and laughed. "I'll give you my coat." He slipped off his wool overcoat in one quick motion. His badge was still displayed on the lapel of his suit.

"No, I don't need that," Frank protested.

"Yeah, you're cold, man." Bobby draped it over his brother's shoulders.

"Sure you don't need it?"

"No, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Nice, it's nice."

"Yeah. Good coat." Bobby reached for his binder, which he'd set on the ground minutes before. "So, uh, I'm gonna put my card," he said, opening the binder and extracting one of his business cards, "in your pocket here." After he tucked it into the coat pocket, he looked into his brother's eyes. "I want you to call me if you need anything…. You call me and ask, okay? But I'll see you here. Noon."

"I'll be here," Frank promised.

"All right."

"Thanks, Bro."

Bobby could feel the cold seeping through his clothes now. He nodded, and turned to step toward the car. "All right." He walked stiffly because of the cold, and turned back to see Frank greet his girlfriend. Then he grasped the door handle and dropped into the seat, closing the door as quickly as he'd opened it.

"You're cold," she said quietly.

"The heat feels good," Bobby replied, warming his hands against the vents.

"So that was Frank."

"Yeah. That was Frank."

Alex looked over at him. He continued to warm himself, looking out at the people on the busy street. She'd seen him handing over money and then his coat. She worried. That was enabling behavior, with someone who was an addict. Bobby knew that. He knew everything about psychology and relationships. She sighed. Frank was his brother. He loved him. That was the bottom line. It didn't really matter, everything else. He loved him, and he thought he should help him, and so he did.

She couldn't fault him for that. Alex pulled out into the traffic and they headed back to 1PP.

"He's gonna meet me here, Sunday. We'll go up together for Mom's birthday."

Alex felt goose bumps crawl over her flesh. She just knew this wouldn't pan out like he had planned. "That's good, Bobby," she said quietly, trying to be supportive.

"I mean, I know, he probably won't show up, but you know, it's Mom's birthday… and he said he's clean…"

Alex nodded, listening, but she just knew Bobby was going to be disappointed. "I hope he does show, Bobby. It would mean a lot to your Mom."

He nodded.

"We'll have to get you another coat."

"I'm all right for now. I'll pick one up later."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Back at the squad, Ross told them they didn't have enough yet for a search warrant. He asked who else may have seen her body before the campus police found it, and the answer was the other debater, Dr. Corliss, the atheist.

Bobby found an old, thinner overcoat in his locker, and decided it would get him through the rest of the day. They went out to interview Corliss, and he told them he saw the Reverend with a manila envelope. It was enough to ask a judge for their warrant.

At the car, Alex asked him what he wanted to do.

"What do you mean?" he asked, completely missing the point of her question.

"I mean… if you want to come over tonight… or if not, that's okay too…"

"I-I'd like that, I think."

"You still need a better coat," she commented, giving him a glance.

Bobby picked some lint off the old coat. "It's okay. I'll stop by my place in-in the morning," he said.

They ate dinner and Alex took a bath while Bobby called his mother. At first it was the usual chit-chat, her complaints about the hospital staff, her comments on what she'd seen of his case on the news.

In an attempt to change the subject, Bobby blurted, "Your birthday is Sunday."

"Yes, another one. Probably my last."

"Ma!"

"It's true, Bobby. May as well admit it."

Goren scratched his head, closing his eyes and nodding impatiently. "Yeah, well, I think this one will be pretty special for you."

"Not without your brother. He's dead, Bobby, I just know it."

"No, Ma, I saw him."

"You saw your brother?!"

As soon as the words slipped out, he regretted saying them. "He's coming on Sunday."

She squealed with delight, and he felt a very real pain as he realized the depth of his error. "Wonderful, Bobby! When will you be here?"

"In the afternoon, Ma. I'll be there Sunday afternoon." He hoped she picked up on his pronoun.

"You and your brother… we'll all be together again! I'll have to ask them to do a better job with this ridiculous wig…"

"Ma, it's just… you don't have to try to…"

"Oh, Bobby, I was so afraid I'd never see him again. How did he look? Is he working?"

"Ma, he looked… he looked fine. You can ask him yourself about the rest."

Alex came out, rubbing a towel against her wet hair. She overheard the end of their conversation, which centered around Frank. Bobby finally ended the call with a tense sigh.

"She's, uh… she's looking forward to seeing him."

Alex was speechless. She knew Bobby had the same worries as she did. She dropped the towel to her side. "It's been a long day," she said. "You want a bath?"

He looked at her, but he was still preoccupied. He'd already removed his tie. He slipped out of his suit coat and dropped it unceremoniously into the seat. His shirt soon followed.

She came so close he could smell the fresh fragrance of her shampoo. Alex's hand cupped against his stubbly cheek. Bobby hunched down as she reached up, and they kissed. "I'll be in the bedroom," she told him.

The warm water did wonders for his stiff muscles, but he found himself still thinking about his brother. Bobby wondered when Frank had last had the luxury of a bath. He wondered if he was truly homeless, or if he maybe had some kind of cheap efficiency somewhere. He wondered if the girlfriend contributed anything to Frank's life. It didn't escape his notice that Frank had said nothing more about her than "That's my old lady," and "she's a little shy."

Of course, he'd explained nothing about Alex, either. She was more than just his partner.

Bobby closed his eyes and sank further into the water. How much could you really share on a sidewalk in the bitter wind, after all?

He hadn't even hugged him. Bobby hugged all of his friends, so why couldn't he hug Frank?

He didn't really trust him, that was why. Frank used to be the one to take care of Bobby, when they were kids. All the way until Frank left for college, Bobby had looked up to him and trusted him completely. But over the years, all those incidents had whittled away at it until… now, instead of a pillar of trust, Bobby was left with only a wispy sliver of hope in Frank. Their roles had changed completely.

He finally emerged from the bathroom and joined Alex in bed. Bobby didn't even bother with clothing. He was hoping she would make love to him and take his mind off of everything.

She was reading, but she set her book on the nightstand and turned toward him with a smile.

Bobby kissed her. He wanted the comfort that only she could give.

She obliged him, but she didn't let him get carried away. "You've got a lot on your mind," she told him.

"Yeah," he replied and moved in to kiss her again.

Again, she held back. "Frank wasn't quite what I expected." Raw as it was, she was going to get him to talk.

"I've told you about Frank," Bobby retorted.

"He wasn't anything like I pictured."

"Because he's homeless?"

"No, it's not that," Alex said. "I guess it was just, physically. I guess I pictured him looking a lot more like you."

Bobby huffed. "We've never looked alike."

She smiled and shrugged. "I never saw a picture."

"He asked about you," Bobby said.

"Yeah? What'd you say?"

It was Bobby's turn to shrug. "Something about work… he thought we… you know…"

She nodded. She wasn't going to put pressure on him.

"I didn't know he was homeless." Bobby's thoughts from the bathtub came swirling back.

"You were very kind to him."

"I hope he… you know, Mom…"

"I hope he does, too, Bobby."

"I shouldn't have told her." He closed his eyes, and his cheeks burned.

Alex touched his strong arm. "Maybe he'll come through this time."

He bit his lip and stared at her, still berating himself for the slip.

"What's she like, Bobby? What does she say to you?"

He shook his head. "I… Alex, I don't wanna…" He swallowed, and Alex wondered if it had been a mistake to ask. "Sometimes, she's good. She's very smart." He smiled, thinking of his mother. "She's very opinionated, and even when… even in the bad times, her opinions are well thought-out."

"But she favors your brother," Alex guessed.

Bobby shrugged. "It's the illness. In her mind, she's built him up, made him into something…"

"But that still hurts." Alex's hand was still against his skin.

"I love her," Bobby explained.

Alex nodded. "She's your Mom," she said, and then dropped it. For a few minutes, she caressed his skin, and soon he started to reciprocate.

Her kisses were gentle, but his were hungry. He needed to escape it all tonight.

Alex wanted him to know he was loved. She gladly gave him what he asked for.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Reverend Cal Riggins arrived in a flurry. He wasn't happy to find they had a search warrant, but it appeared that he'd finally given up on the lies. The Church Elder, Roberts, interrupted, told them he knew the DVD was gone. Cal seemed truly surprised. "You knew about this?" he asked. "Is that true?!" he demanded of the man.

It looked like Roberts was their newest suspect. When he said he was calling a lawyer, Eames decided they would bring him in for questioning.

In interrogation, things were looking good until Bobby tossed the DVD across the room, an obvious left-handed catch. Roberts wasn't able to raise his arm to even come close to catching it. He had a rotator cuff injury and couldn't have been the one who shook Marjorie.

Roberts provided them with cell phone video of the prostitute Diego at the event. Now he was back at the forefront again. Roberts and the Church lawyer left the interrogation room. Bobby turned toward Alex and scratched his head.

She was angrily replacing items in her file folders. "We, uhm, need to bring him back in," Bobby said. He reached for his binder and tidied it up.

"Saturday night," she said. "We won't be able to find him. Busy night for rent-boys. Better to wait, we can get him tomorrow. I'll get Ross to help me."

Bobby zipped the binder shut and nodded.

Alex put her hand on his back. "You have a date with your Mom tomorrow."

He nodded again. They didn't speak any more until they were out of the interrogation room, away from the built-in PA system. "You coming over?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "I, uh… I need to get Mom a gift. You know, and maybe another coat."

She nodded too. "I'll walk you downstairs."

* * *

He stood in front of the church from 11:30 until 12:20. Finally, cold from his ears to his toes, Bobby decided Frank had stood him up. Angry, disappointed, worried, and hurt, Bobby dropped into the mustang and drove to Carmel Ridge.

He told himself he'd talk around it. He told himself maybe his mother wouldn't remember, wouldn't expect Frank and so wouldn't be disappointed. He told himself that maybe she would have told herself Frank wouldn't show, the same way he and Alex had.

She was asleep when he arrived. He checked with the staff and found she was starting to decline, in spite of the treatments. He set the large box that contained her birthday present on her bedside table and sat down in the chair beside her to wait. After 5 minutes thinking about the experimental treatment he'd read about this morning, he loosened his tie. After 5 more minutes, he took it off completely and put it in his pocket. 5 minutes after that, he unfastened the top button of his shirt.

The tv was droning in the background. She always had it on. He couldn't blame her. She devoured books, finishing most in less than a day. Without a regular visitor to keep her in literature, there was nothing left to occupy her mind but the television.

He heard her shift beside him and he turned his head. Bobby offered her a smile. "Happy birthday, Ma," he said softly.

She smiled at him. "Bobby." As she pushed herself more upright, her next words were "Where's Frank?"

"He, uh… he was running late. I, I don't think he's gonna make it."

"He'll be here," she said.

Bobby sat with her, trying to make smalltalk. His leg was bouncing unceasingly. She was growing bitter. She started to complain again about the hospital staff, repeating a story about poor quality of the hospital food.

"They can't even get soup right, Bobby! Imagine!"

"I heard you the first time, Ma," he said, growing impatient with her. "I brought you a present," he said.

"We'll wait for your brother," she said.

Again, they filled the long silences with meaningless words. At last, Bobby spoke again. "He's not gonna come, Ma. It's just like the last time, when he forgot-"

Her heart monitor blipped in the background, and she looked angry. "Frank will be here," she said. "He would never forget my birthday."

"Why don't you open your present?"

"No! I want to wait! He'll be here!"

Bobby looked at the clock. He knew Frank wasn't coming. His anger was growing as he tried to fathom why she wouldn't accept it.

"Bobby, have you seen Frank?" She asked, as if they hadn't just spoken of it on the phone the other night.

He nodded firmly, but his eyes were distant, staring at her blanket.

"Well, how is he? What did he say?"

His eyes met hers for a moment, but he looked away again as he answered her. "He's fine."

"Oh, good. Good. Well, of course he is."

"He said that he's, you know, cleaning himself up." Bobby still looked away as he spoke.

"Ah, Frank never caught a break. You had all the luck," she said with a scoff. After a moment, she continued, "Where was he?"

Bobby was lost in thought, comparing Frank's choices to his own so-called 'luck.' It took him a moment to process her question. "Oh, he was coming out of a church."

"You see that?" She said. "He's going back to God," she said proudly, and Bobby felt the implication in her words. "Never underestimate your brother," she added.

He'd been taking it all, all the little stabs, but Bobby's face betrayed how much that one hurt. To his credit, though, he said nothing.

"I'm just uh… I'm just gonna close my eyes a little bit…"

Bobby sat with her as she drifted back to sleep, thinking about his mother, his brother, his 'luck,' and God. His emotions were drifting and changing with every thought, it seemed. He finally turned his eyes away from the droning television and stared out the window into the hall.

He caught a glimpse of Dr. Sylveste making rounds. Bobby lurched up from the chair and hurried into the hall. He followed along a step behind the doctor. "Dr. Sylveste!" Did you look into that new treatment that I was talking about?" he asked.

"Radiation-carrying monoclonal antibodies. The studies are ongoing."

"Yeah, but the phase one tests, they were very promising for someone with my mother's type of cancer. I mean, if you could get her into a trial…"

"They won't take her in the clinical trial," the doctor said firmly. "Her cancer is advanced, and her mental health is an issue."

Bobby sighed. "Well, forget the trial. Just get the treatment."

"The FDA hasn't approved it yet."

"Well then, apply for the 'compassionate use' exception." He could feel his anger building. "Look, she's got no other options."

"Compassionate use? I'm afraid there may not be enough time."

Bobby felt like the man was sentencing her to death. He couldn't accept it. He looked down at the floor, shaking his head. There had to be another way. "Well, I've been talking to someone at the FDA who could help…"

"Mr. Goren-"

"…expedite…"

"Please. You should know, your friend can help, but the cost is prohibitive. It's not covered by Medicaid. The entire expense would have to come out of pocket."

"How much?" Bobby asked, still unwilling to accept that there was nothing he could do.

"Minimum? Five, Six thousand dollars."

Bobby sighed, envisioning his strained finances. He could maybe do five or six thousand dollars. "Well, for the whole treatment?" He asked hopefully.

"No. Per month," the doctor replied, crushing Bobby's hope. "Just because the science exists, doesn't always make it the best choice for the family."

Bobby's anger fizzled into sorrow. He sighed and nodded, then turned to walk back down to his mother's room. Tears welled in his eyes, but he forced them back into oblivion.

* * *

Alex could see the immense sadness in Bobby's face, in his body language. He didn't breathe a word about the visit with his mother, and she didn't ask in front of the Captain.

She briefed him on her interrogation of Diego, and the three of them sat in the AV room to watch, again, the footage of the debate.

Cal's first words, "Sometimes, we have to rely on faith," set Bobby off into a train wreck of thought. Alex read his face and refocused her attention on the screen. She was going to have to take up the slack for Bobby tonight. He was preoccupied.

Cal's voice filled the room. "All the intelligence in the world will not help this man. He needs to accept the Lord. He needs to pray to God."

She glanced over at Bobby, and she could see that the words were cutting into him. Alex looked back to the television.

Bobby tried to get his mind back in the game. When Corliss offered his rebuttal, Goren was listening. "IF inflicting unbearable pain is how your God tests faith, then he's a vindictive son-of-a-bitch!"

Ross paused the tape and told them how this rebuttal was out of character for Corliss. "Riggins must have really hit a hot button to make Corliss lose control."

They spoke of each man's motivations to travel together, engaging in these public debates. Bobby told them how much Corliss was paid for each debate. "Corliss is in it for the money," Bobby said.

Ross pointed out that the guy made a lot and seemed to have very little in the way of financial responsibilities.

With that, the two detectives headed out to investigate James Corliss. Alex wanted to ask him, but she saw the way he moved, and she knew Bobby just needed to lose himself in the work for a while. Alex found the only anomaly in Corliss' checkbook, a monthly payment to a woman since 1990 that started at $2200 and went up regularly until the most recent payment, $6000.

They called it a night, with plans to visit Alminia Perez on Monday.

In the elevator, Alex finally asked. "Frank didn't show?"

Bobby snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head. "No," he said, and his voice faltered.

She stared at him. "But there's more than just that," she said.

Bobby swallowed hard, and that sorrowful look passed over him again. "I… I, uh, I can't, Alex. I'm… I'm going home."

The elevator doors opened, and he was gone. Alex frowned after him, her face full of worry.

* * *

Bobby called in the next morning, saying he was called back to Carmel Ridge and he would check in with her Monday evening.

Even with the check, it took some time to find the woman. Alex finally made it to her home in the afternoon, close to 3:00 p.m. It was her good fortune that it had taken so long. As it turned out, she was at Perez' home when the special bus brought James Corliss' son home from school. He was sweet, and obviously mentally impaired.

They were together again when she briefed Ross. "Corliss finds out you met his son, tough getting him to talk," the Captain said.

"Not if he thinks we're going after his archenemy, the Reverend," Bobby countered.

Ross went along with this plan. He sent the detectives out to confront Corliss in his lab.

* * *

Alex took the lead as Bobby sat on the couch by the back wall, fumbling with his binder. They confronted the man with their knowledge of his relationship with Marjorie. Bobby told him they knew about Venice.

"Venice is a romantic city," he said.

"Not for Marjorie," Corliss said. "Venice is a killer for anybody with any kind of motion sickness."

Bobby made a note. Corliss knew of Marjorie's labrynthitis.

They confronted him with the knowledge of his son, who he kept secret from the world. "I cried like a baby the day I knew there was nothing we could do, that all the science in the world couldn't fix my child."

Bobby was inspired by this comment. He slammed the binder shut and got to his feet, asking, "Were you angry at God for that?"

"No. There is no God. What happens to us is what happens to us."

"And when Riggins said at the debate that only God could help your son?" Bobby asked, leaning against the counter behind the scientist.

"I lost it. How dare that fanatic compare my precious son to his made-up God?"

"Marjorie knew about Jimmie, didn't she?" Alex asked.

He admitted that he'd told her years ago.

"You wanted her to marry you… help raise your son," Alex continued.

"We were just friends."

"You mean that she rejected you," Bobby said, "for Riggins… that she rejected your science for his faith."

Bobby got him to confess. He cuffed the man and led him out.

* * *

Bobby and Alex were watching the coverage on the news in the AV room when Ross came in. He seemed a little somber. "Detective, the ME just called." He was addressing Goren. "You should get down there."

Alex saw the flash of fear in his glance. The only person in his life the ME would call him for would be Frank. Bobby's face was grim as they hurried through the building and down, down to the coroner's office. Alex desperately wanted to hold his hand.

Alex rubbed her eye and let out a sigh as Rodgers picked up Bobby's nice wool coat. He recognized the coat, too.

"Detective," she said. She handed Bobby his business card. "He had your card in his coat."

Alex watched Bobby. She could see the stress, the fear pulsing through him. Rodgers handed him the coat, and he tucked it over his left arm. His eyes sought Alex's.

Without further hesitation, Bobby walked around and gently lifted the sheet, checking for a toe tag. It said "John Doe." He frowned and circled around to the head of the gurney. He drew the sheet back, and saw a stranger's face.

"Oh, well…" Bobby gasped quietly. "Oh, that's not my brother-I mean, it's my coat but it's not my-my brother." He was clearly relieved. "I guess he sold it to somebody. It's okay," he told himself. "I mean, I gave it to him. He can sell it if he wants to. It's just…" He looked back at the body and then held his breath a moment. Bobby looked at Alex. "Everybody needs money, right?"

Alex watched him as if he was a stranger. He'd never acted this way in front of her before. She was silent. It was her job to support him. That was what their relationship was, after all: helping each other through the bad times. Alex gave him a slow, resigned nod.

She couldn't impose all of her feelings, all of her thoughts on him. He was making excuses for Frank, another form of enabling. It wasn't good, but Frank wasn't her brother.

Bobby hung his head and whispered "thanks," as he headed for the door.

Alex followed.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

There was the awkward stop in the elevator when Alex pushed number 11 and Bobby pushed the button for the parking structure. She looked up at him, worried.

"I gotta—I'm calling it a day," he announced, still nervous. He caught the concerned expression on her face. "I—Eames, I'm okay."

"Bobby, no you're not," she said.

The doors slid open and he stepped halfway through. His eyes were on the floor as he drew his hand over his hair until it landed with a grasp on the back of his neck. "I'll… I'll see you later," he breathed.

She watched him walk from the building into the cold air of the garage. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she rode the elevator back up to the squad room.

Ross saw her at her desk alone, and quickly stepped over. "Is Goren-?" he began.

"It wasn't his brother," she declared. "I guess Bobby's coat traded hands."

Ross nodded, glad that Goren didn't have to grieve his brother. He couldn't help but notice the man hadn't returned, though.

"He said he was tired," she explained. "Bobby went home." The Captain nodded and returned to his office.

* * *

He would have just walked, if it hadn't been so cold. The icy air sent him into the warmth of a bar, and he bought himself a drink to justify the space he was occupying.

He barely touched it. Bobby's thoughts were moving so fast he completely forgot about the scotch in front of him. _Frank never caught a break._ That was what his Mom had said, and Bobby had to admit in a way, she was right. And once he'd fallen into drugs, he'd never been able to come back out of it. Not for any length of time, anyway.

Bobby thought back to their conversation on the street. He tried to put himself in Frank's place… all the hard work of giving up the drugs, coming clean… and then to see your brother out of nowhere and find out your Mom is dying… It didn't mean he'd relapsed, the fact that he hadn't shown up. Maybe he just couldn't… couldn't handle it. Maybe he couldn't bear the thought of seeing Mom dying in a hospital.

And Alex… he knew she was trying her best, but Bobby could tell she'd passed a judgment about him, about how he treated his brother. He bristled at the thought of her concern. She didn't understand! She didn't have a brother like Frank, or a mother like Frances. She couldn't understand!

At the same time he had that thought, all of his rational knowledge of codependence popped up. She was right. He was enabling Frank. But what the hell was the difference between caring and enabling?! All Bobby wanted was to do right by his family. He wanted to do right by Frank. It was his responsibility as his brother. But he wanted to care for his mother, too, and if that meant getting Frank to come see her, to be a part of the last months of her life…

The thought of Frances' death tugged his emotions in a new direction. He recalled the conversation with Sylveste, and he closed his fist in anger.

_If inflicting unbearable pain is how your God tests faith, then he's a vindictive son-of-a-bitch!_

Bobby wrapped his tense fingers around the whiskey glass. Corliss was right.

_Were you angry at God for that?_

_ No. There is no God. What happens to us is what happens to us._

He was right about that, too. Only… if Bobby really believed that, then why was he so Goddamned angry?!

He gulped down some whiskey and then scratched his fingernails against his scalp.

…and the look on his mother's face when she'd said Frank was going back to God.

_All the intelligence in the world will not help this man. He needs to accept the Lord. He needs to pray to God._

He could feel the pressure building, the heat in his cheeks, the dull thud starting in his head. His blood pressure was rising. As he contemplated throwing the glass across the room, he was surprised when an angry tear slipped from his eye and pooled on the tabletop next to the whiskey.

Bobby drew his arm over his eyes. He gulped back a sob and drew in a long breath. Goren tossed some cash on the table, got up, and left.

* * *

Alex waited at his apartment. She had already changed into some night clothes, and was trying to doze on the couch until he returned. Sleep was elusive, however. She couldn't seem to stop worrying about him.

She heard his keys in the door and tensed, sitting up straight in anticipation. He didn't look her way when he came in, only stared at the floor until the door clicked shut. Finally, his eyes flitted over her.

Alex looked him over. All she could tell was he was cold. He was wearing the wool coat again, but it hung loose around him. He hadn't bothered with the buttons. His ears, nose, and cheeks were red from the wind outside. He'd left his hat, gloves, and scarf at 1PP.

"You've been waiting up for me?" He said, his voice quiet, but somehow accusing.

"I was worried," she admitted.

He turned and locked the door in one swift movement, then headed for his kitchen. He got down a whiskey bottle, but then opted for a glass of tap water instead.

Alex watched him carefully. She couldn't tell if he was drunk or not. She could, however, read his anger. "I can go if—" she offered, though her heart wasn't in it.

"No." He drank half the water and wagged his head in her direction. "You can stay."

Alex folded her arms across her chest, wondering suddenly if that was a good idea. She wasn't sure she knew what he should do with his anger. She wasn't sure being with him would help.

Bobby finished the glass of water. He set it down with a thunk and peeled off the coat, dropping it over the back of a kitchen chair. Then he walked swiftly past her to the bathroom, where he was soon in the shower.

* * *

He slid into the bed beside her, seemingly having shifted the crux of his emotions from anger to passion. Bobby kissed her eagerly, and was too harried with his attempt at foreplay. She humored him, hoping that if they made love, the release would settle him. As he swooped in to drop another round of kisses on her neck, he saw the little cross there and stopped cold. Bobby lowered himself to the mattress beside her, completely uninterested in sex.

"Does it help?" he asked her.

"What?" She had no bearings by which to follow his train of thought.

"God. Prayer."

"Bobby, are you saying—"

"Just answer the question."

"Yeah." She was thoughtful. "Sometimes. It helps."

He sighed heavily and rolled to his side with his back to her.

"Are you- do you think you believe?"

He shrugged. "I don't see any point to it." He was quiet a moment. "Maybe I do." Then the silence fell again. "But nothing can help her now. Even if I could afford the treatment, there's no guarantee that…"

"What treatment?"

He told her about the experimental treatment, and the outrageous cost. "I guess I should say I believe in God, if only to have someone to be angry with." He laughed at his own logic.

Alex was completely at a loss for words. She reached out and gently stroked his hair. Maybe something in her touch could soothe him. She was shocked a few minutes later when his body shook with sobs.

Alex scooted closer and put her arm around him. She held him until he was still again. She held him until he slept. She held him all night.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Bobby awoke before her, and in recalling the events of the night before, he was embarrassed. He slid out from under her arm and stood by the side of the bed.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned over, and he watched, simultaneously filled with longing and pain. He couldn't do this. If they stayed this close, she was going to find out about his mother… about Frank… and it wouldn't take long before she would see the faults in him. It would destroy everything they had.

With a sigh, Bobby got dressed and left for Carmel Ridge.

* * *

"I missed you this morning," she said cheerfully into the phone.

"Yeah, you were… were sleeping, so I… I didn't want to disturb you." He paced the hospital halls as he spoke to her in hushed tones, leaning his head toward the phone.

"Can we get together later?" Alex asked.

Bobby shook his head. "N-no. I'm with my mother."

"Oh. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, you know, the same. I just… I feel like I gotta spend time with her, you know…"

"Okay, Bobby." Alex paused, remembering his emotional state the night before. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He ended the call rather abruptly, and Alex frowned before she gathered her things and went home.

* * *

He was back at work Monday morning, and he was maintaining a distance between them. Alex didn't like it, but she wasn't sure exactly what to do about it. As always, it was business as usual when they were working. They caught up on some paperwork and then Bobby had to spend some time running through refresher trainings on the computer. She didn't see much of him all week. He was starting to visit his mother almost every evening.

By Friday, she needed to talk to him, to find out exactly where they stood. "Dinner, my place," she said. "And I'm not taking no for an answer. You've got all weekend to spend with your Mom."

Bobby swallowed hard, but he nodded. "I can… pick up some wine. Red?" He asked.

Alex gave him a grin, and he pined for her. "That'd be great," she said.

* * *

They shared a kind of awkward hug when he came in. It had been a long time since they'd had that kind of contact. They both laughed nervously, and Alex thought it had been a long time since she'd seen his smile.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," she said as she took the wine from his hands and carried it to the kitchen.

"You know, Mom…" he shrugged. He took the opener from her hands and popped the bottle open.

Alex held out the glasses for him to pour. She nodded. "I know." Alex shrugged, and decided to go for the direct approach. "I can't help but feel like you're pulling away from me."

Bobby set the bottle down on the table and took his glass of wine from her hand. He turned away from her as he spoke. "I told you there would be times… when it would be too much," he said quietly.

"Okay," she said, wondering when she could talk to him without walking on eggshells. "Forget about it. Let's just enjoy dinner." She served up their plates, a real home-cooked meal, something Alexandra Eames rarely had time for. She saw Bobby's eyes light up. He hadn't had the time to eat right lately, either.

The conversation was safe, but it was still easy. Bobby had just cleaned his plate when his phone rang. He excused himself and went to the living room to answer. She started clearing the dishes away, and couldn't help but overhear.

"Jesus, Frank, what happened to you? I've been worried." He listened. "No, no, forget it. It's g-good you called me. D-did you need something? Are you okay?" A pause while he listened again. "Y-yeah, okay. Look, you'll have to meet up with me so I can give you the money. I mean, I w-want you to… m-m-meet up with me."

Alex took a deep breath. He was doing it again.

"Yeah. Sure, bro. She's, you know, okay. You really should go see her, Frank. She'd love to see you. She talks about you all the time." He paced the living room as he listened. "O-okay. I'll see you later, then." Bobby ended the call and returned to the kitchen. He saw the cleared table and pouted a little. "What, no seconds?"

Alex knew he was trying to kid with her, but she was angry with him. "Frank?" She asked, trying not to sound angry.

Bobby read her signals, though. He tensed. "Yeah. I guess he's still around town, after all."

"You haven't heard from him… since?"

Bobby shook his head. The last time he'd seen Frank was the day Alex was with him.

"But you're going to go out…" she looked at the black of the night sky through the window, "… tonight, and what? Give him money?"

Now Bobby's temper flared. How dare she tell him what he could do with his own brother?! "I don't think it's any of your business, Eames!"

Her eyes were full of fire, but she bit her tongue. She didn't want to argue, but she wanted him to see the truth of what he was doing. "It's not. You're right. But Bobby, you're my friend. My best friend. And I can't stand by silently and watch him… take advantage of you."

Bobby scoffed. "Take advantage! You don't know what you're talking about."

"He's using you for money, Bobby. And for what? Drugs?"

"He's trying to get back on his feet! You can't do that with empty pockets, Eames!"

"Or maybe he's buying drugs."

"So that's it, huh?" Bobby said with a sigh. "He's not good enough for-for-for-for you, because he had a problem. Is that it?"

"Goren, you know that's not true." She glared at him.

"Look, I think I'll just… be going, now. Just, you know, stay out of my business, Eames. My family, it's-it's not your business." Angrily, he grabbed his coat. He left before he'd even put it on.

* * *

The bar was the sleeziest dive he'd been in in a long time. Even in his investigative work, he hadn't hit a place like this in a while. Bobby observed the others in the bar as he sat with his back to the wall, facing the door. He sipped his whiskey and wondered how clean the glass was. It was too dark to tell from looking. He chuckled to himself as he thought the alcohol would probably kill any residual germs.

Bobby saw Frank walk in. He was different this time, kind of… twitchy. Frank paused near the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark and smoky room. He saw his brother and made a beeline for him.

"Hey Bobby," Frank said, in his mellow baritone.

"Good to see you, Frank," Bobby said, giving him an encouraging smile, trying not to spook him.

Frank's eyes flitted around the room and he was fidgety in the seat. "Did you- I mean, I really appreciate what you're doing for me, Bobby."

Bobby's neck burned as he felt the heat rising. Alex was right. Frank was using him. He swallowed hard and fingered the wad of cash in his pocket. He wondered again about how he could do right by his family. At last, he pulled out the money and tossed it in front of his brother. He'd already promised it to him, after all. "You missed Mom's birthday," Bobby said. Simultaneously, he was angry with his brother and terrified he might scare him away again.

"Yeah, that… I feel really bad about that, Bobby. That was a-a bad day." Frank put the cash into his pocket. "She's okay, though, right?" he asked.

Bobby was incredulous. "She's dying, Frank. She's got f-" he stopped himself before letting the curse fly. "She's got cancer. She's going to die. The doctors are doing everything they can, but… her time… it's almost up." On the last words, he looked his brother in the eye, and he saw a tiny bit of pain there, even under the influence of whatever drug he was on tonight.

Bobby stood and leaned over his brother. "You should go see her. Before she dies."

Frank nodded silently as Bobby left.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Dr. Mallory was dead. Bobby's estimate was that he was killed the night before. He was on one knee beside the body, giving it the scrutiny that only Bobby could give on the scene.

"Hey," Alex called out behind him, and his muscles twitched in surprise. He'd spoken to her on the phone ten minutes ago, asked her to call in an ASL interpreter. He shouldn't have been surprised by her appearance.

He'd been avoiding her for more than three weeks. Ever since the argument, the night he gave the money to Frank, he'd only had contact with her at work. Bobby's voice was quiet as he responded to her greeting. "Yeah," he said.

Alex, of course, was all business. In her mind, whatever had transpired between them was past now, whether she liked it or not. She still watched him closely; she still tried to care for him… as a friend. She showed Bobby how the windows were boarded up for the St. Patrick's Day parade, providing cover for the killer.

He told her he thought the Doctor was killed the night before. Alex checked his book; he had no appointments. With no sign of a break-in, they knew the man must have let the killer into the office.

Bobby saw the trail of pills leading to the closed door to his inner office. Pills and prescription pads were missing, and the cabinet was in shards. Alex asked about the spatter on the wall. It was blood, but there was something else in it. Something chunky. Since Bobby was closer, he got the honors.

His stomach had kept him up all night. He was running low on sleep again, and his immune system was starting to give. Bobby felt rotten, but this was his job. Tentatively, he took a piece of the disgusting goo off the wall. He lowered his nose and sniffed it, then announced it was potato, an 'Irish silencer.'

Alex thought it was the perfect scenario for a murder. Bobby showed her, however, that the killer had shot the surgeon in the hand first, and had kept him alive long enough for the hand to swell; then crushed the man's larynx before delivering the fatal gunshot.

They discussed the possibilities, until a man came in asking for Detective Eames. Bobby had no claim to Alex, not anymore, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he watched Detective Lyons shake her hand. He tried to distract himself with the body again.

Lyons was the ASL interpreter. Their chief witness was deaf, and though she could speak and read lips, it wasn't sufficient to rely on her skills alone when questioning her. Bobby knew some sign, but he'd told Eames clearly that he didn't know enough to act as an interpreter.

The group was in the middle of questioning Malia when the Assistant D.A., and fiancé of the deceased, arrived. She was stricken with grief and someone should have kept her from the scene.

She was interfering with the questioning. Bobby took Claudia by the arm and led her out of the room. She asked him about their findings, and she was alarmed by the state of the crime scene. She was tossing out wild theories right and left.

Bobby questioned her, and kept her out of the team's way. In spite of his weariness, he did a good job. She wasn't satisfied, of course. Her lover was dead.

Eames was chatting with Lyons by the SUV. At the end of the evening, Bobby gave them a nod and a wave, and headed down the sidewalk to the subway tunnel. His stomach was doing flips again.

He found some medicine in his cabinet and called his mother. She wasn't well tonight, physically or mentally. He squeezed his eyes shut, his hand on his stomach, and tried to find the right words to put her at ease.

"Did you get my plot?" She asked him, suddenly as sound as anyone.

"What, Ma?" he asked, stifling a burp.

"My plot, in the cemetery? Bobby?"

He closed his eyes again and rubbed his stomach harder. "Yeah, Ma. I took care of it."

"Thank you, Bobby."

He ended the call with an 'I love you' and laid down on his bed. The medicine was finally starting to kick in. Bobby closed his eyes. The illness allowed him to get some sleep.

* * *

Ross came in on the phone with DA Branch. He waved Goren and Eames into his office and announced that the DA's office would be working closely with them on this one.

The patient list was a bust, but Eames got a text that one of Mallory's prescription forms was used to get drugs at a Wall Street pharmacy. She and Bobby hurried out of the office.

He was a lot better than yesterday, but Bobby was still tired. He leaned his head against the headrest as she drove them uptown.

"So," she said, "You okay?"

Her concern irritated him, especially after all this time. "Sure. Why shouldn't I be?"

His sarcastic tone made her frown. "You don't look so good, Bobby. But fine, whatever. I guess I'm not allowed to care."

He regretted it, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out to her. Bobby made a sour face and looked out his window. "I… I'm just… fighting off something, I guess," he finally told her. "Sorry."

"You're sick?"

"It was worse yesterday. I'm okay."

She gave him another glance and decided to drop it.

An hour later they had Jared in interrogation. He tried to lie, but the detectives easily caught him in it. Bobby showed him the crime scene photo of the victim, and Jared started talking.

After sunset, Eames was in the diner reading a tabloid. She knew Bobby was on his way. He had to change and check in on his Mom before they could set the snare. She sat long enough to find out who their target was. She sent Bobby a text with the description, both of the man and of the table he occupied.

She heard his heavy footsteps, and then heard Bobby's voice. Alex turned far enough to see him with her peripheral vision. They had more backup outside, but she was Bobby's first line of defense.

He managed to buy a prescription form from Antonio, and Alex moved in to make the arrest. He didn't budge. It turns out, the man was confined to a wheelchair.

He told them where he got the pads. Claudia arrived, leaping to conclusions again. Bobby set her straight on the facts, and Alex asked just the right question. It turns out Mallory was testifying against another doctor in a malpractice case.

They headed out and found the place Antonio had described. A crowd of protesters was outside the office. Deaf protesters. Bobby saw Lyons, but he walked right past the man without a hello. He heard the cheer in Lyons' voice when he greeted Alex. "I didn't know Major Case covered unlawful assembly," he said with a grin.

"Oh, we didn't know this was going on," Alex said. She might have given him a smile if the late March wind wasn't freezing the skin of her cheeks. "The Doctor they're protesting, Dr. Strauss, Mallory testified against him last Friday."

Bobby was rooting through the boxes on the steps of the building. He found one of Mallory's prescription pads, too high for Antonio to reach from his wheelchair.

They went inside and found the Dean of the college inside, trying to make peace with Dr. Strauss. She explained that the students were willing to leave if he agreed not to press charges against them. He agreed, and Bobby thanked Dean Price in sign language.

The man complained, and the detectives questioned him. He had an alibi, and one they could verify, so they left. Detective Lyons was happy to talk with Alex again when they came back outside. He shared with her what he'd gleaned from the protesting students about their attitude toward Strauss.

Bobby followed along behind them as Lyons explained that cochlear implants were more accepted nowadays that they used to be. Bobby tossed out the possibility that the killer was from the deaf community, and Lyons, while he didn't deny it, was quick to suggest that it could have been Strauss trying to frame someone in the deaf community.

Alex latched onto Lyons suggestion and climbed into the SUV. She'd picked up something in Bobby's tone, in his posture. She didn't want to witness his jealousy rearing its ugly head.

Later that day, they found out that Strauss had a permit for a Glock 9mm. It was enough to bring him in for questioning. They punched a good sized hole in his alibi, and found out since he was drunk he used a car service that night. That led them to the shooting range he'd visited for fun on the way to Atlantic City.

They recovered the Glock, which had been confiscated by the people at the range when they realized Strauss was drunk. Strauss's gun hadn't been the one used to kill Mallory.

She tried to talk to Bobby again that night, but he made excuses and bailed at the nearest Subway entrance. Alex shook her head. She understood if he wanted to be alone, but he was starting to piss her off.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The next day, Dean Price was shot. She survived, but it was a close call. Again, it was a 9 mm. Her husband said it was the playwright, Larry Forseca. He said he had a vendetta against her because she was an inclusionist. He pointed them to the theater building across the street from his wife's office.

There was evidence of another potato silencer, and cigarette butts. Lyons appeared and Alex asked if he'd had any luck.

"No. All I could get out of him was Larry left an hour ago. No one here is going to give us any more than that," he said.

Alex spared a look Bobby's way and saw how painfully tired he was. He was barely keeping his eyes open, and they were red-rimmed and raw. She wondered for a moment what had kept him up last night.

"They're closing ranks," Lyons explained.

Bobby spotted Malia milling around with the students, and the three went down to interview her again. Goren saw the way Eames and Lyons were talking with one another. They were no longer strangers, that was clear. He felt a pang, and told himself it was for the best. Alex was better off with someone else.

They found a lot of evidence, and it all seemed to point to Larry. They set to work trying to track him down. Alex briefed the Captain. Bobby was studying Forseca's plays, trying to get some insight into the man. It was possible that he killed Mallory to keep Malia from getting implants. But the Captain didn't think they had enough to put the attempted murder of Dean Price on him.

"There's a deaf social at the skating rink tonight," Alex said. "Peter thinks Larry might show."

* * *

The three detectives staked out the social, Bobby and Alex perched in the bleachers. Lyons was up and down the stairs. He knew most of the students, either from his recent work with them or from his own personal life. He bounded up the stairs and informed Eames and Goren that Larry was the only one who hadn't shown.

Goren kept his eyes on the kids skating as they spoke. Lyons pointed out Malia's boyfriend Tommy, just as the man waved an insult in his direction. "He called me a traitor," Peter explained and added how he was failing in his attempt to bridge both the deaf and the hearing world.

"They're fighting," Bobby pointed out. He asked Lyons to translate for him.

"I'm not comfortable eavesdropping," Peter said.

Bobby hid his lips behind his hand. He knew they could just as easily make out what he was saying. "They know that we're here. They have no reasonable expectation of privacy. Please." He spoke politely, but he could feel the anger bubbling up.

"It's a private event," Lyons protested.

"In a public place," Bobby snapped back. "Please! Eames," he said, shifting his eyes quickly to her. He always tried to get her to mediate these things.

She shook her head. "Don't put me in the middle," was all she said. Her phone chirped and she walked away, lifting it to her ear. She briefly hoped the two wouldn't start brawling.

Bobby was still pleading his case with the other detective. "Now the gestures are getting bigger. It's like they're shouting," he said. If they were speaking with voices instead of hands, everyone nearby would be able to hear them. "You've got to tell me what they're saying," he told Lyons as the man sat on the bleacher seat beside him.

Peter wasn't happy with it, but Goren was swaying him. Socially, it was a faux pas, but it was absolutely legal.

"I know he's talking about Larry," Bobby pointed out.

Finally, Peter glanced at the skaters. "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"He's telling her to be careful of what she tells the police."

"Okay."

He told him the rest he could see. The students thought the police would try to frame Larry for the murder, even though he could never do such a thing.

"They know we're talking about them, so they're hiding their hands," Bobby said.

"They can read lips and body language, Detective," Peter said.

"Yeah, yeah. I know, I know," Bobby said. He hated that his ASL wasn't better. He hated that he had to rely on this guy to interpret for him.

"It's a public place," Lyons told him. "We have no reasonable expectation of privacy."

It was a good thing Alex showed up right then, or Bobby might have given in to his temper. She told them ballistics indicated it was the same gun in both shootings, and the DNA matched on all the cigarettes.

Bobby offered to call the DA, to make sure they knew they wanted to arrest Larry. He walked away, leaving Eames with Lyons. He glanced back once, and the two of them were so close together they looked like any other couple there.

* * *

Goren tried to stay focused on the case. He kept thinking back on the last few months with Alex, and he was having serious regrets. He rested his forehead on his right hand while he wrote out his notes with his left. He spared a glance at her empty chair and thought how unpleasant it would be if she weren't in his life.

They came in together, too. "Detective," Peter called. "Larry agreed to turn himself in."

Alex peeled her coat off. "He told Peter he didn't know we were looking for him."

Bobby heard their words, but he was preoccupied with the thought that she could pick up and partner with anybody. She didn't need him.

* * *

Mallory's fiancé showed up again. She watched in the observation room, quick to judge the deaf man as guilty. Bobby tried to reason with her, and so did Ross.

"What are they saying now?!" She demanded, seeing the man in interrogation waving hands furiously with his lawyer.

The interpreter didn't budge. He kept his back to the window. "I'm purposely turning away," he explained.

"You're what?!" She cried.

"He's talking to his lawyer," Detective Lyons said.

"In plain view, and could be confessing to murder!"

Bobby again tried to convince her that Larry was only in this for the political platform. "He knows that we can see him. He's posturing for us."

"It's illegal for me to tell you that!" Lyons declared.

"Captain, we are allowed to read body language," Bobby said, looking for clarification.

"My detectives know that Major Case is not in the habit of violating attorney-client privilege," Ross declared, ending the debate.

She was furious, and threatened to make things difficult for them. "Counselor, a word," Ross said calmly, and escorted her from the room. Bobby went right to the window to see what 'body language' he might pick up on.

Lyons walked out, and Alex followed him. They headed to the cafeteria and grabbed some coffee. Peter was furious. "Your DA thinks she can bully deaf people… that they don't know their rights!"

Alex glanced around and said clearly, "She's not _my_ DA… and her fiancé was killed."

"Then she shouldn't be in the room!"

Alex nodded. "What's going on?" She asked him. This wasn't the same man she'd had dinner with last night. "Are you upset with her? Or are you upset that the killer might be deaf?"

"Look, Alexandra," he said. "Most of what I do is outreach. I'm more comfortable interpreting for the community than interrogating it."

She was confused. "You helped us at the rink."

"There your partner was right. That's a public place. This is completely different."

"Shankly was out of line," Alex conceded. "But there is still a murderer out there, targeting people who educate and care for the deaf. Are you comfortable with that?" She asked him. She saw Captain Ross and stiffened suddenly. "Captain."

Ross updated them on things upstairs and asked Lyons to see what he could get from news footage of a deaf rights protest. Reluctantly, Lyons agreed. He hurried upstairs, leaving Ross with Eames.

Ross wasn't blind to Goren and Eames' relationship. Without knowing the extent of it, he knew that they were close. He knew that they had grown apart recently. As he was wont to do on occasion, he sat down with Alex and tried to connect with her on a personal level. He looked back at the door Lyons had just gone through. "He seems like a decent guy," he said to her.

"Yeah. He does," she agreed.

Ross left as quickly as he'd come. Alex got up, too. Better for them to all watch the video together, get the information in real time.

* * *

They ended up bringing Malia in once more. She was angry, crying out that Larry was going to be pissed.

Bobby started asking questions, and Alex was surprised to see how easily he began to sign what he spoke. She wondered again when he'd learned it. Malia alibied Larry, and said that Tommy had spent the day with his cousin. She didn't want them to talk to Tommy. This made her look guilty. She got scared, asked if she needed a lawyer. Bobby called a break in the interrogation.

Ross told them to lean on Tommy's cousin, which meant it was time to call it a night. After a few minutes of tidying up their desks, Bobby leaned forward to tell her something, but he was too late. Lyons was sitting on the edge of her desk, trying to apologize about something from earlier.

Goren turned aside. He didn't want to eavesdrop. He sighed heavily as Eames walked out with Lyons. He stared at her empty chair once again.

"You okay?" Her voice sent a short spark through him.

"Huh?" He asked in surprise, spinning around in his chair so he could look into her face.

"You seem… I don't know, preoccupied."

Bobby pressed his lips together. "I… well I guess I am."

She leaned her bottom against the edge of his desk. "You wanna talk about it?" she offered, fully expecting him to push her away again.

Bobby just stared. He stared into her eyes, and somehow she knew something was about to give. After what seemed an eternity, he cleared his throat and glanced away. "I… uh, maybe somewhere more… private?"

A slow grin crept across her face. "Sure, Bobby."

* * *

His place was as neat as a pin. She thought for a moment that he must spend all those sleepless hours sweeping up dust bunnies. Alex smiled to herself and sank into the cushion at one end of his couch.

Bobby stepped forward and sat down beside her, removing his tie at the same time.

"Well?" She asked him after they'd sat in silence a moment.

"You know, if you… if you and P-Peter have something going, well that's okay, you know I don't have any problem with that and you—"

She hadn't heard him babble like this since the night they went to the morgue thinking it was his brother. "Bobby," she said, stopping him with a touch of her hand to his elbow. "There's nothing between me and Peter. We had dinner once. That's all."

She could sense his relief. "Now, what's going on?" She asked him.

Bobby drew in a deep breath and let it go slowly. "I… I thought I… you know, I thought I was doing the right thing… by you."

"You mean pulling away?"

He nodded. "Now I'm not so sure."

"I'm sure," she offered, and scooted a little closer. Alex took his large hands into her small ones. "I told you a long time ago, this can be… whatever it needs to be. But I asked you to talk to me, and it seems like that's what you can't manage."

His chest rose faster with each breath. Unconsciously, he leaned in closer to her. "It's so hard to… to talk about it."

"I know."

"Alex, I don't want to lose you. Ever."

"Hey," she said and ducked her head down until she could look into his eyes in spite of his hanging head. "You haven't."

In an instant, he had his arms around her, and they were linked in an embrace. Alex didn't know how long they sat that way, but she knew something inside her felt complete.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Tommy's cousin DeeDee was very cooperative. She answered all of their questions, speaking vocally since she was holding her baby in her arms at the same time. They found out the baby recently had a naming ceremony, and that she was born deaf, which was cause for great celebration. They also found out that Tommy had a sister who was able to hear, who left the community when she went to college. They also found out that Malia had failed to attend the party with Tommy.

Eventually, they decided to bring in Malia and Tommy and interview them together, so they could split them apart. The interrogation room was prepared. Peter sat beside Alex across from the suspects and Bobby was at the end of the table, in a chair he'd brought in at the last minute.

Tommy tried to pin it on Larry, but Malia alibied Larry. As the conversation progressed, they uncovered Tommy's prejudice against the hearing. Since his sister had abandoned him, he couldn't stand the thought that Malia, after surgery, might do the same.

Bobby rose from his seat and started speaking sign language for himself. His motions were slow and deliberate, but his words were clear. He exposed how Tommy had killed the doctor because the young man thought he was screaming. With a crushed larynx, he hadn't been able to make a sound, but Tommy hadn't known that, and he'd killed him anyway.

Peter translated the whole thing for Alex's benefit, and then stepped in when Bobby struggled to explain that Mallory couldn't scream. After the confession, the uniformed officers came in and cuffed Tommy. Bobby halted them, asked them to cuff him in the front so the man could still talk. In that instant, Peter understood something about Goren. He hadn't been trying to take advantage of the deaf all along, with his eavesdropping. He had simply been trying to get at the truth. That was the job of a detective, after all. Lyons folded his arms and looked away from Malia, who was crying. He was horrified that the crime had been committed by a deaf man. It sullied the image he had in his mind of the safe haven, the cocoon of safety his deaf parents had created for him.

Bobby closed the door and dropped into the chair between Lyons and Eames. They would have to question Malia a few minutes longer, until they had enough information to drop the charges against her.

* * *

Lyons was no threat to him, but Goren was glad to see him go. Alex was kind, as always, only tossing a glance Bobby's way as she told Peter maybe they'd cross paths again. Peter was no fool. He knew that glance held some kind of meaning. He shook his head, said goodbye, and offered Goren a hand before leaving them for good.

Bobby started in on the paperwork right away. He had big plans for the evening. He wanted to spend some time with Alex before going to see his mother. He didn't look her way, but he grinned under her stare.

"How did you learn to sign, anyway?" She asked him.

Finally, Bobby's eyes broke away from the computer screen. There was an amused spark in them. "Oh, uh… it was a girl I knew..."

She smiled. "Of course it was."

He leaned forward, perfectly willing to open this little window into his past. "There was a cluster of deaf students in my literature class in college." Without thinking, he accompanied his words with sign as he told the story. "Elaine was one of them. She always seemed to have some kind of rebuttal to my comments in the classroom."

Alex's grin widened. "You dated her?"

He blushed and nodded. "For a while. But then I started into criminal justice and she stayed in psychology and by the end of the semester we hardly saw each other."

* * *

"Have you heard from him?" Alex asked.

Bobby shrugged and shook his head. "I don't wanna talk about Frank tonight," he said.

She didn't want to accept his answer. She was trying to get him to open up, after all.

Bobby shook his head and took her hand. "It's not like that," he explained. "I just wanted tonight… to be about you and me."

She smiled at his charm, and when he bent down, she kissed him.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered at the end of the kiss.

"No. None of that talk," she said. "I want tonight… Bobby, I want you to forget all that…doubt." Alex kissed him again.

They continued to speak in between moments of closeness. "That's hard for me to do," he admitted. "I'll need your help."

"To know you're…" she ran her hands over his chest. "…sexy?" Alex spent a few minutes caressing him, her eyes following the trail of her hands. She culminated the move with a deep kiss, her tongue mingling with his.

Bobby was panting.

"To know I love you?" She said then, and kissed him again. "Oh, Bobby. You deserve this," she said, running her hands over him again as she nuzzled his neck. "You deserve this and more."

He groaned and returned the affection she was showing him. As his lips searched hers, his hand settled gently on her hipbone. Alex relished the warmth.

They were half naked when Bobby's phone interrupted them. He forced himself to pull away and rummaged through his suit pockets until he found it. Seeing the name on the display, he frowned.

"Goren," he said. "She is? She did?" He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. I was coming up tonight anyway, I'll just… I'll leave now. Yeah. Thanks." He ended the call and looked over at Alex apologetically.

Before he could explain, she pulled her shirt back on. "It's okay, Bobby. Go. Your Mom needs you."

He ran his hand through his hair, as if he had some kind of decision to make. He nodded silently, and got to his feet, snatching his clothes back up off the floor.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Bobby was holding up pretty well. He hadn't pushed Alex away for a while, now, and though he still had trouble opening up to her, at least he was trying. Really, besides the everpresent pissing contest between him and the Captain, things were going well.

Alex shook her head, just thinking about Bobby and Captain Ross. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, and it didn't seem they would ever get over it. They'd just wrapped up a case involving astronauts in the NSA, and Ross had made some off the cuff remark about type A personalities and being angry all the time. Bobby hadn't missed the chance to throw the Captain's words right back at him. She sighed. At least the Captain had a good heart.

Every once in a while he would have a coffee with her in the cafeteria downstairs. Although she wondered about his motivations, Alex had to admit she was getting to know her Captain. He wasn't a bad guy. A little too blunt sometimes, but he always seemed to have the best intentions. He spoke to her about Bobby, and grieving, and while she tried not to divulge too much, she could tell Ross had suffered loss, too. He was trying to cut Goren some slack, and she appreciated it.

Frances Goren had been complaining about treatment all along, but this week, she'd had enough. She told Bobby she was done with it. She insisted he come get her out of the hospital. He was more upset than she'd seen him in weeks, but Bobby respected his mother's wishes. He was in Carmel Ridge now, helping her move back to her room at the home, and, Alex knew, trying one last time to change his mother's mind.

* * *

Bobby walked beside her as the nurse pushed her wheelchair back to her room. He carried a banker's box full of her belongings in his hands.

"I just couldn't take those meds anymore, Bobby," she told him.

"Ma, it's your… only chance, you know," he said quietly. She almost cried, and he felt the guilt bubbling up again.

"Oh, please, they made me so nauseated I couldn't even read!" They arrived at her room, her home for the last several years. "Well you know what? I'll just spend whatever time I have left right here. No IVs, no wires… no more machines."

Bobby set the box down on her coffee table. He hurried over to help the nurse get his mother into bed.

"All right," he said with resignation, reaching to support her under one arm. "Okay, fine."

"I'm okay," Frances said.

"Come on," Bobby said softly. They got her to her feet and she sat heavily on the bed. As Frances rolled to her side, the nurse lifted her feet to the mattress.

"You can't just give up, Mom," Bobby said firmly.

"Bobby, I may only have a few weeks left." She stared at the ceiling as she spoke. "Please. Don't give me a hard time. Okay?"

He scratched the short hair of his sideburn and turned away from her, nodding slightly. Walking back to the coffee table, he pulled a photograph out of the box he'd just placed there. It was a picture of him and Frank as children. His brother had a protective arm around him. For a moment, Bobby pined for those days. Those were the days before life got so hard.

* * *

It was unexpected. Bobby had written Wally regularly since his incarceration. He'd put in a word for the man, helped him get moved from Riker's to a prison in Pennsylvania so he would be closer to his mother. Bobby had sympathized with Wally. He obviously had Asperger's syndrome, and the crime he had committed was directly related to his desire to keep control over his life. The man had killed because he hadn't known what else to do. He hadn't had the kind of support he truly needed, and Bobby hated that. So he'd written him. Until his mother got so sick. Then Wally and nearly everyone else had gone by the wayside.

So the request that Wally wanted to see him had come as a surprise. Alex offered to drive to PA with him, but Bobby said, no, he could use some time alone in the car to think… to clear his head.

Wally stood and rigidly shook Bobby's hand. "110 days since your last letter," Wally said. "Longer than your usual pattern." Bobby smiled, then Wally surprised him again when he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, thanks. How are you?" Bobby replied.

"This transfer to Pennsylvania, it's a big help. My mother can visit," he added.

"That's good. Good." Bobby knew now how much it meant for a man to visit with his mother. There was a strained silence, and Bobby decided to prompt him. "The warden said that it was urgent."

"Not about me," Wally explained. "Mark Ford Brady. He gave me a message for you."

Although Bobby hadn't worked his case, as a profiler of serial killers, he was familiar with the name. Brady had been sentenced to death row for the rape and murder of seven women.

* * *

They visited his childhood home, now owned by a couple who were doing renovations. They were horrified that their home had once belonged to a serial killer.

Bobby noticed some older insulation in the attic and removed it. There he found a package. He cut open the plastic, and it turned out to be a scrapbook from the 80's. There was a different girl on every page. Bobby recognized Brady's first victim. It looked like they'd found a scrapbook of victims, and there were much more than seven.

* * *

On the way back from their first meeting with Mark Ford Brady, Bobby was preoccupied. Both he and Alex had been revolted by the man. There was no doubt in either of their minds that he was a serial rapist and killer and that he killed for more than the seven women he was convicted of killing.

Now, two weeks from his scheduled execution, he was using his victims to try and buy himself more time, not to mention another fifteen minutes of fame. As his execution date neared, his name was starting to splash through the headlines again, and now with the revelation of the scrapbook, there was even more excitement surrounding the news stories of Mark Ford Brady.

His phone rang, and Alex listened to the one sided conversation, easily filling in the gaps as she minded the road. "Frank, I've been trying to get hold of you," Bobby said. After a moment, he glanced at Alex and then waggled his head. "Yeah, I know, I know. Life got in the way. Look. Mom, she… she discontinued the treatment. This is it, Frank. She's decided it's time." He was quiet, listening, and Alex could feel the moment when his anger bubbled up. "She's dying, Frank! How the hell d'you think she's doing?"

His outburst complete, he twitched and shifted in the seat. Then he calmed his voice and spoke again. "Yeah. Yeah, look, I'm sorry. Just, you need to see her. We don't… she doesn't have much time left… all right. Okay. Goodbye, Frank." He ended the call and looked over at Alex.

She frowned. She had tried very hard to steer clear of conversations involving Frank.

"He, uh… he made excuses, said he's been busy, you know…"

"Do you think he'll see her?"

"I don't know," Bobby said quickly, shrugging and stretching his neck to one said. "Yeah. I think so. Frank, you know, he loves her too."

"You could take the time now, Bobby. I can work this with somebody else on the squad…"

"N-no. It's okay. When it's time, I'll, you know… I'll go then."

She bit her bottom lip. He was going to try to do it all, burn the candle at both ends. While she knew it wasn't the best thing, somehow she knew staying with his mother 24/7 wouldn't be the best thing for him, either. It wasn't going to be easy for him, that was for sure.

* * *

Bobby had done his research, and Brady fit the profile of a serial killer to a tee. It was almost frightening how much he had in common with the man: raised in Brooklyn, time in the army, broken home, absent father, charm with women…

One by one, they were identifying the women in the scrapbook. One woman's husband was convicted of killing his own wife, even though he'd walked in and saw Brady strangling her. The case wasn't just about providing closure to families, it was about justice.

They ate some lunch and hit the road again, on their way back to Pennsylvania. Bobby's phone rang. He apologized to his mother, rubbing his weary eyes.

"Oh, uh… Mom, I'm sorry. We have a… it's an inmate on death row," Bobby tried to explain.

Frances was stoic. "Well, one death row visit is as good as another." She paused to give the words time to sting and then continued speaking. So, uh, your brother dropped in today, again. He said you have a girlfriend. Who is she?" she asked.

The denial of their relationship was almost knee-jerk. "No, no, no, no. That's…He misunderstood," Bobby said.

Frances knew he was lying. "I want to meet her," she said, and hung up the phone.

Bobby paused, then flipped his phone shut. He and Alex had talked about this, and she had deferred every time to Bobby's wishes. All this time, he hadn't wanted Alex to meet his mother. Frances had changed the game. She wasn't long for this world, and if she wanted to meet Alex, how could Bobby say no? He turned to Alex with a smile on his lips.

"My mom wants to meet you," Bobby said, chuckling. "Uh… my brother's been talking you up." He tried to keep it light, but he was suddenly afraid. What if she didn't want to meet Frances?

Bobby sat quietly, and his eyes glanced in her direction once again. He saw the beginning of a smile on her lips, and they both shared a quiet chuckle.

"I'd like that," Alex finally said. She dropped her hand from the steering wheel and her fingers found his.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

"An unknown man assaults the woman in your life…? The husband's doing 19 years? Probably set up the same way I was." Brady shook his head, thinking. "That's terrible… I was thinking, if I were to confess to this… I mean, I didn't do it, but if I confessed to it, you think that would help?"

Bobby looked over at Alex. Her face was grim, and her eyes full of warning._ Are you sure you're up for this?_

Bobby mouthed "yeah" without even realizing he did it. He turned back to Brady, his voice exceedingly quiet. "Uh…Well, we'd need a believable confession."

Brady stood and the prison guard rushed in to manhandle him. "It's okay!" Bobby told the man, and he let Brady go. Bobby and Alex listened as Brady described the rape and murder of Anna Dukay. He even described her husband walking in on him.

Goren had read the most horrible things in his studies of serial killers. He'd heard a good number of confessions over the course of his career. But the way Mark Ford Brady so easily described what he'd done… the happy lilt in his voice… Bobby raised his hand to his mouth.

"Well, you've done a good deed," Boby told Brady, not managing to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Oh, well thank you," Brady said with a grin.

"Do another one," Alex interjected. "Each of these women must have a story," she said, flipping pages in the scrapbook.

Bobby studied Brady's face as the man looked through the photos. He saw a smile cross his face before he continued perusing the book. "Okay," Bobby said. "Could you go back a page?"

Brady did.

Bobby tapped the picture. "This woman. You smiled when you saw her picture."

"Did I?" Brady asked. "You're very observant."

Bobby was not amused. "It's a fine line, this… Give us nothing, then we're done. Give us everything, then you don't need us, but that's the game that we're playing." He raised his eyes and nodded at the killer.

Brady gave them a name. Madelyn.

* * *

Bobby had spent at least half the trip trying to prepare Alex for meeting his mother. He explained again how her schizophrenia affected her, and how the cancer had affected that. He was nervous, talking a mile a minute, bouncing his knee, and really, making excuses for whatever Frances might say.

Finally, Alex seized upon a quiet moment. "I guess you haven't taken a girl home to meet your Mom in a while," she teased.

Bobby did a doubletake, and then stared at her a moment. "N-no, I… I never did that," he said. "…Take a girl home, I mean."

Alex was stunned. How could he have never brought a girl home to his mother? As she thought of it, some comprehension dawned. In his younger years, his mother was sick, unmedicated, unpredictable. Alex recovered from the shock quickly and tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, Bobby," she said. "I'm looking forward to this. Really."

"I just don't want you to…" He jiggled his knee again and his head turned to look at the trees blurring by them. He looked back. "I want you to like her. And her to like you."

Alex smiled, reached out, and patted his knee.

* * *

In the hall outside her room, Bobby told Alex he wanted to go in alone first, to test the waters.

Alex kept a firm grip on his hand and shook her head. "I want to meet her, Bobby. We'll go in together."

It took him a moment to agree. His nerves really were getting the best of him. At last, he gave a shaky nod of his head. Alex squeezed his hand and walked in with him, never letting go.

"Mom, this is… Alex. Alex Eames," Bobby said.

Frances looked at Alex, then turned her attention to her son. "You don't even have a kiss for your dying mother?" She said to him.

Bobby blushed and Alex let his hand go so he could kiss his Mom on the cheek. He raised back to his full height and Frances looked at the two of them.

Even without the handholding, she could see there was a connection between them. Bobby stood tall, and so did this girl. They were smiling at her pleasantly.

"Alex?" Frances asked.

"It's short for Alexandra," Eames explained.

Frances' expression was hard to read. She stared at Alex a moment, then turned back to her son. "Bobby, the nurse was telling me there's a good article in the new issue of the New Yorker. Be a dear and go get me a copy?"

He threw Eames a look of quiet panic. She smiled at him and touched his arm. _I'll be fine._ "Go ahead, Bobby," Alex said, reassurance in her tone.

"And get one from the back, not one everyone in the shop has handled!" Frances called after him. Bobby smiled and gave her a wave as he left the room.

Alex scooted a chair close to the bedside and lowered herself into it.

"You love my son."

Alex smiled and looked into the woman's eyes. She nodded.

"You'd have to, to come meet me on my deathbed. It's not exactly Thanksgiving dinner, is it?"

Alex's smile broadened. The old lady was certainly sharp.

"I suppose he's told you all about me."

Alex nodded.

"The schizophrenia?"

She nodded again. Alex refused to blush, to be embarrassed about it.

"You know, I did just fine on my own. I raised two boys, sent them to college. Not bad on a librarian's salary." Frances regarded the woman in front of her. She hadn't said much, but she liked the quiet strength she saw there. "And you've known him a long time?"

Again, Alex nodded. "Yeah."

"Bobby is weak," she said, causing Alex's brow to furrow a little. "If you've known him long, you know that. All his life, he's been too soft. Just a few words will turn him inside out. God knows I tried to toughen him up, but…" Frances sighed and shook her head. "He's not ready. He thinks he's ready for this, but he's not."

Now Alex understood what the woman was trying to say. The furrows deepened, and Mrs. Goren continued.

"Frankie, he'll be fine. Life has always been hard on him, and he just braces himself and keeps going. But Bobby… when something knocks him down, he flounders for a while before he figures out what to do with himself." The old woman looked at Eames, then, her eyes sharp and piercing. "Can you handle him?"

Alex almost chuckled. This was the same conversation she'd had with Ross so many times, wasn't it? "I can handle him," she said.

"I don't believe it."

Alex looked at the woman in surprise.

"A little old thing like you?"

"You're small, but you can handle him," Alex tossed back at her.

Frances gave her a slow smile of approval. Bobby returned, with a tentative knock at the door. Alex nodded that he could come in, and as he handed his mother the magazine, Alex slipped her arm around his waist. He turned his head to her and gave her a smile. It was nice, not having to hide it.

* * *

They stayed until the end of visiting hours, and then headed back to the city. Bobby kept throwing her glances, but he never asked the question. Alex kept her eyes on the road, but even out of the corner of her eye, she could see he had a smile on his face.

"Don't you want to know what we talked about?" She teased him.

Bobby's eyes lit up and he tilted his head, then nodded.

"She wanted to know you'd be all right."

"That doesn't sound like my mother," he said quietly.

Alex's lips curled. "She loves you, Bobby, in her way. How did I do?" She asked, and threw a glance in his direction.

"F-fine, you know. Fine. I think she liked you."

* * *

A/N Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! To Sell, the translations are working as well as google translate did, and the way you're doing it now makes it much easier for me to reread your comments! Thx!

...more to come!


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

They spent the night at Alex's place. He was too tired for anything but sleep, so they curled up together in her bed and talked quietly until he drifted off. Alex fell asleep easily, too. Perhaps she'd been more anxious about meeting his Mom than she'd realized.

Sometime in the night, he woke her with kisses. Alex returned the affection, and he whispered _I love you, Alex_ before the room was filled with their ragged breath. The second sleep was more relaxed than the first.

In the morning, after his shower, Bobby met her at the coffee pot. He set his palms against her cheeks and kissed her, his hands drifting back through her hair, holding it away from her beautiful face. He kept his hands there as he leaned back from the kiss and smiled. "You should wear it this way," he told her, and then kissed her behind the ear.

Alex grinned, handed him a cup of coffee, and went back to the bedroom to finish getting ready for the day.

* * *

They ID'd Madeline Strauss with the help of missing persons. As they looked over their board filled with photographs of the women, Bobby pointed at the picture of Anna. He got to his feet. "Anna Dukay, she was killed in her basement. Allison Keele, Brady left her in her SRO. I wonder if Madeline made it out of her building?" He asked Eames, and chewed on his bottom lip.

The owner of the building had seen Brady on the news, and was more than willing to cooperate with the police as long as they kept it quiet. It saved them the hassle of getting a warrant.

Bobby found a place where the wall sounded hollow. The CSU team cut through the wallboard and they saw what appeared to be a body wrapped in canvas, secured with duct tape. Alex got out her pocketknife and cut through the canvas. There was a skeleton beneath.

Eames could feel the cold chills going through her body. Not so long ago, she'd been trapped in a basement. The rescue teams had dismantled a wall to get in, to rescue her.

"She's been here all this time," Alex told Bobby, "Alone."

He heard the tremor in her voice, but his mind was already a step ahead. Bobby studied the back wall of the alcove they'd just found the body in. He smacked it with his hand, and it, too, sounded hollow. "Maybe not," he said, and looked over at Alex.

The CSU man brought the reciprocating saw, and they repeated the procedure, removing a panel of drywall. Another body was hidden there.

"We asked for one, he gave us two," Alex commented.

"I wonder what he wants in return," Bobby retorted.

They stepped back, then, letting the technicians do their work. The bodies were on the way to the ME's office, and it would take some time before Rodgers could give them any information. Alex called the Captain and updated him as they walked to the SUV.

Once they were in the car, Bobby turned to her. "You all right?" he asked quietly.

Alex glanced quickly his way. She shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. Her face screwed into a frown, but she nodded. "There but for the grace of God," she breathed.

Bobby's hand went to her back. "I guess I have something to thank Him for, after all," he said, and gave her a smile when she looked his way. "Kind of… evens out the scorecard, so to speak…"

She started the car, and let out her breath. "Let's get some lunch."

The rest of the day was spent following up on leads with the unidentified women.

* * *

As they looked over what was left of Madeline Strauss, Alex fingered the cross at the nape of her neck. She was very quiet, thinking again how lucky she'd been to have survived her own abduction.

"Mummified," Bobby said.

"Field dressed," Rodgers clarified. "Disemboweled, blood was drained, body cavity sprinkled with lime, then wrapped in canvas."

"No decomp smell to give the body away," Alex said.

"And the other corpse?" Bobby asked, throwing a concerned glance at Alex as she folded her arms and turned her head. Her phone chimed, and Alex pulled it out.

"Female, in her twenties, also mummified and strangled."

"We may have a witness," Alex said, reading the text again. "A woman recognized her picture. She's upstairs."

Bobby finished writing some notes in his binder and gave Rodgers a wave as the two detectives left the morgue.

He didn't say anything. There was nothing more he could say to Alex than he'd already said last night. She'd survived, and there was nothing he could do to help her deal with the guilt of that, except to let her know how grateful he was that she was still in his life.

Alex was quiet, as well. As hard as Bobby tried, he would never be able to understand the depth and intensity of feelings this stirred up in her. She was handling it. She wasn't falling apart, she was able to do her job… but this kind of thing was always going to give her chills. It was always going to fill her with incomprehensible sadness.

"That's me," the woman said. "As you can see, I'm not missing, so…I'd appreciate your taking my photo off the internet."

"Mark Ford Brady was your photographer, yes?" Bobby asked, pulling out a chair and seating himself.

She said her agency had sent her to the studio for a headshot.

"How much time did you spend with him?" Goren asked, making a note in his binder. Alex watched the woman with a compassionate eye.

"A few days."

"Just for a headshot?" Bobby inquired.

The woman closed her eyes, and her trauma came back to her. "No," she said firmly, and looked away. "He, uh… he took me somewhere upstate. Said he had a house on a lake. It turned out to be a fisherman's shack."

Bobby tossed down his pen, covered his mouth, and closed his eyes, imagining what horrors Brady might have done in the shack by the lake. How many other victims were there? And why did this one survive?

"Miss Hill, if something did happen to you, we need to know."

The woman glanced Bobby's way and swallowed. Hastily, he got to his feet. "I'm gonna get your photograph removed," he explained, and then went quietly out the door, closing it behind him so the women could have privacy.

"You're the first one we've found who's alive," Alex told her, hoping she would realize just how important that was.

She swallowed again. "The weekend upstate really was idyllic. Then he… he disappeared. A few months later he showed up at my door."

Bobby popped back in, but he could see from the look on Alex's face they weren't finished yet. "Uhm," he said quietly. "Your photo has been taken off." He shut the door but stayed close to it, in case the woman wouldn't talk in front of him.

"Nine hours later, he left. He… I couldn't get up off the floor. I was in the middle of a custody battle. He knew I couldn't tell anyone."

"Why do you think you survived?" Alex asked.

She frowned and rolled her eyes. "I…I let him think I enjoyed it."

Both detectives were quiet. Their eyes met, eyes swirling with darkness. Bobby gave only the slightest shake of his head. They thanked Miss Hill, got her contact information, and sent her on her way.

After closing themselves back into the room, Bobby sank heavily down to the tabletop.

"Well, he's a hell of a lot creepier than we thought," Alex began.

"He raped to resolve his self-esteem issues… he killed when-when… he wasn't good enough. Repressed anger, probably, I don't know, abandonment issues from his father? And he provides himself with his own… pressure valve. He rapes women, and then they don't like it, he lets go of his rage… kills them. He rapes them, and they do like it, well… well, he… satisfies his ego and goes on his merry way."

"She said he raped her for nine hours," Alex told him.

"He… he had to be sure… they weren't faking it…"

Alex filled him in on the bit of conversation he'd missed. "Bobby, she said he showed up at her place months later. She went for the headshot at the studio. He tracked her down."

All of the pieces were fitting together, as Bobby developed his profile of Mark Ford Brady. "Well," he said, trying to change the subject. "We've got to… find this… fisherman's shack."

"I'd hate to think what happened if he decided he wanted more than a one night stand…" Alex muttered as they left the room.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

They spoke with the photographer who had hired Brady back in the 80's. The man reinforced that Brady had a certain charm with the women. He was able to ID two more of the headshots from Brady's scrapbook.

It took the better part of the night, but Bobby and Alex were able to track the women down. Both of them were still alive, and neither had suffered an assault from Brady. The first woman had been a willing partner in a relationship with Brady, and he hadn't ever assaulted her. The second had been happily married at the time, and he'd never attempted to assault her.

Bobby went to an interview room for some privacy while he spoke with his mother. It was the third night in a row he hadn't made it back to Carmel Ridge. He was more than willing to go, but by the time he got there, she was sure to be asleep. She'd sounded good on the phone, however, and that made it a little easier for him. When he came back out, he stood by his desk, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm going to…I need to call it a day," he announced.

Alex looked up at her partner, and she could see the rings starting under his eyes. He wasn't sleeping well again. "How was she?" she asked.

He nodded. "Good, she sounded g-good."

Eames gave him a smile. "I'll uh, wrap up here… we can brief Ross in the morning."

He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "Yeah, okay. Sorry."

"No problem, Bobby. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning," she told him.

He'd been hoping she would come with him, but her words put a stop to that. She seemed to have already made up her mind about tonight.

Alex touched his arm, and tilted her head to one side. "I have to stop by my Dad's place. I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks," she explained.

Suddenly, Bobby understood completely. "Okay, yeah, sure. I understand," he said.

She gave his arm a squeeze. "Get some rest," she repeated, and she watched as he lumbered down to the elevators.

* * *

Ross was convinced that if Brady found out they had ID'd all but three victims, he would stall. He was convinced that Brady was only doling out confessions in an attempt to prolong his own life.

Bobby disagreed. He'd been working the profile of Brady for weeks now, and he thought he'd sized him up well. "This is his foreplay," Bobby said quietly, one arm tucked over his chest, his other elbow resting against it, and his fist against his lips. "If he thinks he gains our trust, watch out," he continued.

The Captain listened, but he stood his ground. He warned his detectives not to tell Brady they only had three left to identify. Bobby reluctantly agreed, if only to spare Alex witnessing another twenty minutes of debate.

After Ross left the room, he shrugged, and gave her a tiny smile. "I, uh… I need to go see Mom," he told her.

She simply nodded. "I'm glad. Tell her I said hello," she told him, and he hurried out of the office.

* * *

Frances was sitting on her couch with Frank when Bobby arrived. He tensed when he saw his brother, but he didn't even look his way. His mother was happy to see him.

"Bobby! Oh my God, Bobby!" She cried, and clapped her hands together. "The prodigal son," she said as he bent down with a smile and kissed her cheek.

"Well… sit down. Sit down over here," she said, kissing him twice to make up for the days she'd missed him.

Obediently, he sat down right in front of her. Frances looked from one son to the other. "I got my two boys together in one room!" she cried, patting them each on the cheek. "It's about time," she told Bobby with a pointed finger. "Listen." She showed him an old photo album, seemingly from the 60's. "Was your mother something, or was she something, huh?"

Bobby smiled, scanning the pictures proudly. "Always, Ma. Always," he told her. She laughed.

There were pictures from the beach, and Bobby was surprised to remember that she had worn her hair short, but it had been quite a long time ago. She was beautiful.

"Hey Mom," Frank interjected. "When did you wear a hat?" They all looked at the picture on the opposite page, her wearing a houndstooth suit with a matching hat perched on her head.

"Oh, that went with that suit," she replied. "Uh… Kennedy had just been elected and Jackie had the exact same suit. And I bought mine for a song at Gimbels." She was happy today, full of energy. Bobby stared at her with pure affection.

"Hey Bobby, can I buy you a soda?" asked Frank.

Both Bobby and his mother were surprised by the request. Bobby'd only just arrived, after all. "What?" he said.

"Do you want something, Ma?" Frank asked her.

"Yeah, I want… I want you back here," she protested.

"Okay. Two seconds," Frank said. "Come on." He was already walking past his little brother.

Bobby scratched his ear. "All right." He kissed his mother's cheek again and turned to follow Frank.

"Nice suit," Bobby told him, once they were in the corridor together. It was a nice suit, nothing like the ragged clothes Frank had worn the last two times he'd seen him. Something wasn't adding up.

"Yeah, thanks," Frank said. "I had a little…lucky streak down in Atlantic City."

An ember caught somewhere in Bobby's gut. All the money he'd given him, the money from selling his coat… and instead of getting his life together, he'd taken it to Atlantic City and gambled with it. Bobby bit his tongue.

"I guess the Lord wanted me to look good for Mom, huh?" he added.

He thought he'd made some kind of peace with the whole idea of God, until now. In one sentence, Frank had made it as meaningless as a paper flag on a birthday cake.

"Who seems great by the way, why were you so worried?"

Bobby slowed almost to a stop. Did Frank think he was lying or something? "The doctor says that, you know, it's a normal thing… Her energy. People have, uh…like a rush, before the end, you know…"

"Yeah," Frank said, ducking his head and stepping ahead of Bobby before turning back to face him. "If she is gonna go soon," he said, "her affairs? Are they in order?"

The anger surged inside him. He stared at his brother, incredulous. Bobby blinked, and shook his head. "Sorry? Were her affairs…"

"Her affairs, her finances, are they, uh… what kind of shape is she in?"

Again, Bobby stared and shook his head. "Shape? There's no shape. She's on Medicaid, Frank. She has no finances." For a moment, Bobby couldn't believe he'd ever thought Frank had changed. Alex had been right about him all along. _No more excuses,_ Bobby thought to himself.

Frank tried to make it sound like the whole conversation had arisen from pure concern, but the damage was done. Bobby knew he'd only been hoping to get some money out of it, to somehow profit from their mother's death. "Okay, good. Then her affairs, they're in order. That's good."

_Never again, _ Bobby thought to himself, as his brother stammered and walked past him down the hall. Bobby rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, biting back his anger once again. He would settle the score with Frank later. Right now, his Mom was most important, and she was happy to see them both.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Alex had already called three times. Bobby kept putting off answering. As hard as he'd tried, his five minutes in the hall with Frank had colored the rest of the visit with his Mom. She'd noticed, too, and it seemed she blamed Bobby for it. He kept thinking about that moment when she'd pointed right at _him_ and said "it's about time." Like it was Bobby's fault she never saw Frank. Like he'd been harboring some kind of grudge against his brother all these years.

He missed her call again, but this time, he frowned and dialed her back.

"Bobby? Are you okay? I was worried," she said quickly.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I'm- I'm fine."

"Oh. Good. How did it go?"

"Well, you know… Frank was there."

"He was?"

Bobby nodded furiously, and then spat out a yes. "Look, Eames, I… I'm not really in the mood to talk, okay? I just wanna… I should just get some rest, you know."

"Yeah. Sure. Okay, Bobby. We have to drive back to Pennsylvania tomorrow. Maybe you can fill me in, then."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Bobby?"

"Yes?" He hated that he was feeling snippy with her. The truth was, he was mad at the world right now.

"I just… I love you."

"Yeah. Me too." As an afterthought, he muttered, "Thanks," but she'd already hung up the phone.

* * *

He looked like hell in the morning. Alex had already gotten them both coffees on the way to his place, and he grasped the cup eagerly. She didn't ask about the visit. If he was ready to tell her, he would. If he wasn't, asking would serve no purpose but to aggravate his already dark mood.

She looked out at the remnants of ice patches still lingering by the side of the road. "I wonder when it will ever warm up again," she said. "Seems like this has been the longest winter…"

"Yeah. It has," Bobby said, only it seemed to Alex he wasn't talking about the weather. "You were right about him," Goren said, five minutes later.

"Huh?"

"Frank, my brother. You were right. Once an addict, always…" He shook his head and stared out his window.

"He was there," Alex prompted. He'd already told her that much the night before.

"He asked me about her 'affairs.' I mean, what are we, high society or something?" The anger was bubbling up as he spoke. "All these years, I've been managing it all, Alex, the bills, the medical, the taxes. Where the hell was he?!" Bobby shook his head again, this time with determination. "All he's after is money, and probably just to go blow it in some casino, to see if maybe God wants him to be rich or something."

"He went to a casino?" She asked. She was having a hard time following what Bobby was saying.

"Yeah, he had this, this suit. And he said God wanted him to look good for Ma. God, Eames!" Bobby simply shook his head and for a moment, she thought she heard a growl. "You were right. You were right all along."

He was silent a few minutes, but she could see by the constant bouncing of his knee and his clenching fists that he was about to pop. Alex decided the car wouldn't be the best place for that. She found a gas station and pulled off the road.

They piled out of the car, and he hovered near her.

"There's more," she said, eyeing him closely.

He struggled, and tried to keep his voice down when he finally spoke. "He asked me why I'd been so worried about her."

Alex saw the newly formed fists, and the flush of red in his cheeks.

"I mean, he didn't _believe _me?"

She took a deep breath and stepped forward. Setting her right hand against his bicep, she looked Bobby in the eye. "I've got to gas up anyway. Why don't you walk? Walk some of this off?"

After a long, hard stare, Bobby waggled his head and stomped off toward the woods behind the station. Alex sighed and pulled the handle out of the pump.

Ten minutes later, he was back. He was still energetic, but the anger seemed to be gone. She handed him a drink from the store and gave him an approving nod.

* * *

Mark Ford Brady had ten days until his scheduled execution. He was in solitary, and except for the visits from the detectives and his lawyer, he had very little contact with other human beings. He asked for a favor from the only guard who ever gave him the time of day. He asked for some background on Detective Goren.

Brady had recognized the name right away. He remembered the women, all of them, regardless of what he'd told the detectives. As soon as Wally had said the name Goren, Mark had filed that tidbit away.

Now, after several sessions with the great detective, he saw something familiar in the man. He didn't look anything like his mother; it wasn't that. It was the way the man thought, the way he spoke. And Mark Ford Brady had a vague remembrance of a couple of kids tugging on Frances' skirt, the smaller one in particular.

So he waited, hoping the guard would come through for him, and in the meantime, he tested his theory against the man in front of him.

"Mark…Could we talk in private?" Bobby asked, staring the killer down.

"That would be good," Brady said.

Alex had her reservations, but she trusted Bobby. They'd already discussed strategy in the car, and he'd said he would play it Ross' way. "Fine by me," she said quietly, and got up.

"Forgive us, dear… man talk," Brady said to his female lawyer, who also stood and walked to the door. The two guards stayed at their posts. This was as close to privacy as Brady would ever get.

Bobby loathed the man in front of him. He waited while the women left, and as he watched the door close behind them, he heard Brady.

With a sickening excitement in his voice, he asked, "The body really survived all those years?"

Bobby paused, collected himself, and announced, "We still have… ten unknown." He straightened the stack of loose papers in front of him.

"Ten," Brady said, suspiciously. "That can't be right."

"Yes," Bobby told him, too calm.

Brady screwed up his eyes, then shook his head. "No. You're cleverer than that. They can't all be dead."

Goren looked down at the photographs a moment.

"Somebody had to come forward."

"No."

"How many do you really have left?" He pressed.

"I said we had ten." The guard moved a little closer behind Bobby.

"Five?"

"No."

"Four?"

"No." Bobby's temper got the best of him. "Ten unidentified!" he shouted.

Brady shouted, too. "You're lying to me! You can't lie to me, I'm a short-timer here! You gotta tell me the truth! Now!"

Bobby glanced at Brady, then at the table. He thought it through, and made his decision. "Okay, we have three left."

"Three!"

"Yeah," Bobby said with a frown. He'd probably just made a fatal error as far as the captain was concerned.

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Well done!" Brady said with a genuine smile.

Bobby was disgusted with him. "Yeah, well, you have ten days left." He stood and packed up his pile of stuff.

"I need more time," Brady said.

"Yeah, well, I'll try and make it to your execution," Bobby snapped. He walked to the door. Brady clapped his hands.

"Excellent," Brady called, with a grand smile on his lips. "You have three."

Bobby paused at the door.

"What do you say we try for two?"

Goren came back in and set the three pictures in front of the killer.

He snapped a finger down on one. "Ah. See this little redhead here? She liked to fish, but she couldn't swim."

"Fishing, you mean in the lake?"

Brady realized then that he'd underestimated the detectives. "You've been to my lake house?"

"Sorry? Uh, where is it?" Bobby asked.

"Sullivan County. Beautiful in the springtime. Great place to get out of the city."

Bobby turned and put his hands on the photograph, working to gather them back into a pile. His emotions almost got the better of him as he thought again of what Brady had done in his fisherman's shack. He jerked in surprise when Brady's warm hand landed atop his.

"I even planted crocuses there," Brady said. After a moment, he pulled his hand away from Goren's.

"All right," Bobby growled, and left the room.

Brady watched him walk out, and thought again that this detective must be one of Frances' little boys.

* * *

Bobby catnapped on the drive to Sullivan County. Eames was glad to see him relax, but she also saw how often he stirred and shifted in his sleep. She worried about him.

A full team met them at the shack. The lake crew found remnants of canvas sheets. Having seen how he used canvas with Madeline and the other girl, Alex surmised those could have once housed bodies.

The shack offered nothing but termites. Bobby walked down closer to the shore and looked back at the little house.

"Whatever was up here, it's been eaten away," Alex said.

Goren stooped down, looking more closely at the bed of leaves beside the house. There were new green shoots coming up out of the ground. He pointed a finger there. "Crocuses," he said, and stood up fully. "Brady made a point of mentioning them," Bobby explained. The two detectives walked to the old flowerbed.

Bobby kicked at the leaves with his foot and called for some shovels. The crew hurried over and started digging. Bobby thought he saw something, and grabbed a shovel to join in. After a few strokes, one of the guys hit something. Bobby stopped them, and carefully extracted a wrapped package from the earth.

"Not a body," Alex said.

"Another scrapbook," Bobby said, realizing it too, would be full of victims. No wonder he was willing to give them more. There was no telling how many women this man had killed.

This one was in worse shape than the first, due to its exposure to the elements. The features of some of the women in the photographs were indiscernible. There were other clues, however: buildings, clothing, or the type of street paving.

The next morning, when the photos were ready, they drove back to the prison. Bobby couldn't sleep this time. He spoke with his mother in the car, and she was in pain. Alex offered to let him go, to finish with Brady on her own, but Bobby bit his lip and shook his head. They were already halfway there. Time spent returning him to the city would likely mean Brady would have to wait until tomorrow. The clock was ticking. Brady didn't have that many tomorrows.

* * *

The information had come through. Brady knew now that Goren was indeed the son of Frances, his former lover. He looked forward to the next meeting. He wanted to see if the detective could uncover that little mystery.

He smiled as they escorted him into the visitation room. "Were the crocuses in bloom?" He asked cheerfully.

If looks could kill, Eames would have committed murder.

Bobby sorted through the loose papers in his binder.

"First flower of the springtime," Brady said. "Impatient. Sometimes they push up right through the snow."

Alex was astounded. How this man could kill without regard and go on an on about a bunch of stupid flowers was beyond her. "We dug 'em up, every one of them," she said, just to get his goat.

"We didn't find any remains," Bobby said, getting them down to business.

"Those poor families," Brady said. He looked up at Bobby. "Are you close to your family?"

Goren looked his way, but refused to answer. "Let's talk about your family," he said, laying pictures in front of the killer.

"Ah, the 60's, some of my early work," Brady said. "I made a little darkroom out of a closet in my mother's house."

"Who are these women?" Alex asked. She didn't want to hear him walking down memory lane.

"Oh, it's been so long… and you… you can't see all of their faces."

"But there are other details," Bobby told him. "This building," he said, pointing. "Maybe New York City Hall? Did you ever work as a maintenance man downtown?"

Brady nodded. "Right after I got out of the Army, in '65. I came back to New York City." Bobby made a note in his ledger. "This was the place to be," Brady continued. "The women, so stylish."

Bobby went over the pictures with him one by one as Alex listened and made her own notes. Brady started making smalltalk, speaking in German with Bobby. "Do you remember her name?" Alex asked.

"Nein," said Brady.

She pulled out another picture and asked him about it. He told a story about hitchhikers on the way to Woodstock. He told a lot of details about the girl, but not her name. "It's a fog," Brady lied.

Alex gave Bobby a look that said this was a waste of time, and her partner sighed. "You remember she was hitchhiking and you remember taking her picture but you don't remember raping and killing her?" Alex said.

Brady looked at her with disdain. "You're so impatient," he scolded. "Eager. Like my crocuses." Brady was smiling at her now, as if she'd sparked his interest.

Alex's fury got the better of her. As Bobby sat down, she directed her words to him. "You know, you have somewhere much more important to be. Let's go." She got to her feet, and Bobby looked over, surprised.

She started gathering up his things, as well, taking pictures right out of his hand. "I'm serious," she said.

Bobby was exhausted. He came in with a job to do, and had set his mind to do it, but Alex's determination was powerful. She never took charge like this, not with him. Today, in the tired fog he was moving in, he was grateful she was doing it. Bobby let her plop his binder into his hands and prepared to stand.

"Just a minute!" Brady cried. He went through the stack of photographs in Bobby's binder and stopped at the one he knew would strike a chord. "This photo," Brady said quietly. The woman's face was completely obliterated by time and weather, but the building and street around her could still be clearly seen. Brady directed his words at Goren. "I remember it."

"Yeah? Who is she?" Bobby asked.

"I think I saw her more than twice, after my discharge."

"A girlfriend?" Eames asked.

"No, no, no, no… she was married," he said. "I did some handiwork around the house, when the husband wasn't there."

Goren was listening.

Brady looked right into his eyes and added, "which was often. Somewhat of a roué."

Bobby was familiar with the neighborhood in the picture. It was his own neighborhood, the one he'd grown up in. "Where did she live?"

"Brooklyn," Brady told him, and Bobby's quiet fears started to stir inside his mind. He'd already spent some time studying this picture. The woman wore a houndstooth skirt. It had reminded him of one of the pictures in his mother's album. "Canarsie," and Brady added, "The Rockaways."

Goosebumps rose on Goren's flesh.

"I took the double-L train," Brady said.

Bobby took a breath and his leg started to jump. "Her name?" He asked.

"She had big doe eyes. I called her Bambi."

He tried to hide his emotion, but it was clear that Brady had struck a nerve. Eames watched Bobby closely as he sat back and made notes in his ledger. When Bobby looked back up at Brady, the man was staring at him, a smile in his eyes.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

They talked shop in the car. Whatever was eating at Bobby wasn't going to see the light of day anytime soon. "I'll fax that picture to Interpol, the one from Germany. Maybe someone can get some closure."

Bobby nodded. "That's good," he said, rubbing his hand over his face, scrubbing it hard against his whiskers.

Alex studied him, glancing back and forth from the road to her passenger. "Bobby, I think you should go… be with your Mom."

He turned his head, and his eyes snapped to hers. "Eames, I'm all right," he told her.

She frowned. "I'm just thinking… if the time is close, I don't want you to have any regrets."

"She's all right. I mean, she's not like a couple of days ago, but…" he shook his head. "He's gonna be executed in ten days. I've got time."

She shifted her focus back to the road and sighed.

Bobby scooped his binder up from the floorboard and unzipped it, balancing it on his knees. He fumbled through the photographs, pausing once again to stare at the woman in the houndstooth skirt. Then he rummaged through the stack again and came up with a much smaller one, a snapshot of Brady in his military uniform.

"What's that?" Alex asked, unable to get a close look because she was at the wheel.

"Oh, uh… Brady. When he was younger." He'd been carrying it around since the case began, part of his background research. He hadn't given it much of a look until now. "I wonder what they saw in him," Bobby muttered.

"Lonely women… he was a smooth talker, and a handyman. Women didn't like to get their hands dirty back then," Alex offered. "And a man in a uniform, well that's hard to resist," she said, thinking back to the last time she'd seen Bobby in his dress blues.

He tucked the picture into the hidden pocket of his suit and tilted his head toward her. "Look, I'll… I'll go see her tonight… then I'll make up my mind."

Alex stole another glance at him. Bless him, Bobby did always manage to listen. "Okay," she said.

She was surprised when she felt his hand brush against her thigh. Alex lowered her right hand and set it in his. Clutching her hand, he tilted his head back against the rest and closed his eyes. He never slept, but he seemed to let the rest go for a while.

* * *

She was in pain, but when Bobby walked in, her grimace disappeared and her face brightened. "What a surprise! I thought you were in Pennsylvania today!"

Bobby grinned, that special grin a boy can only give his mother. "I was. But now I'm here. I… I was thinking about you, Ma. I wanted to see you."

She reached out feeble arms to him, and he bent down to give her a kiss. She filled him in on her day, a list of unpleasantries. Bobby listened, nodding her way, and then saw the old photo album lying on her coffee table. He walked over, picked it up, and started going through it from the beginning.

"Ma," he said. "Look at this!" His face was bright with joy, and he walked around to sit beside her, placing the book in her lap. She reached out her hand, fumbling for her glasses on the bedside table. Bobby saw what she needed, stood, and retrieved them for her. He helped her slide them over the tousled wig on her head, carefully adjusting the chain around her neck. Then he pointed to the photograph and smiled again.

She chuckled. "That mangy dog," she said.

"I remember we found it over at the Sullivan's paint shop. Lewis told me it was," Bobby's smile widened and he chuckled as he spoke, "it was too big to go in his house, so I thought I should bring it home. I thought we had more room!"

"It was full of fleas!" She cried. "And do you know the first thing it did when you brought it in was knock over a lamp! That thing was a monster!" She was smiling.

"Didn't you tell me it was a showdog or something? That we had to send it back to its owners before it missed a competition?"

She laughed heartily, and he joined her. "No," she said. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"I'll never forget that… I thought… I used-I used to want… It doesn't make any sense to…" She turned the page in the book. "I like this one," Bobby said. He pointed back to the picture of her in the houndstooth suit.

"Yeah, yeah… that's a good one," his mother said.

"I'd like to have that," Bobby told her. "I would," he said, more quietly.

She pulled it out of the book and handed it over to him, her face full of disappointment. "There. You happy now?" she asked him.

"Yes, thank you," Bobby said, smiling. He'd found the segway he needed. Bobby took a breath and leaned in closer to her. "I ran into… a guy from the old neighborhood. A guy named Mark." He looked into her eyes now, trying to read her expressions.

"What, I'm supposed to remember?" She asked him. Mark was a very common name, especially in a Catholic neighborhood.

"Well, he…" Bobby pulled the snapshot of Brady out of his pocket quickly. She frowned. "He gave me this." Bobby put the picture in front of her. "I don't know," Bobby mumbled.

Frances grew somber, but she kept her face a mask. She couldn't let Bobby find out who Mark was. She sat very still and thought about how she would respond to this. She couldn't lie completely, Bobby would see right through that. She would give him just enough truth to satisfy his curiosity and then he would have to let it be.

"Well, maybe it's the wrong time to show you," Bobby said.

"No, no. I got him now," she said. "He was a lifeguard at-at-at Brighton Beach, uh… at your grandfather's club, and uh… he, uh…he-he used to take a lot of photographs of… girls in bathing suits."

"And you're sure that you recognize him?"

"Oh yeah, of course," she replied. "I…I… I went out with him a couple of times," she chuckled nervously, and added, "before your father."

Bobby nodded, too. "And after that?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Oh, he, uhm… he went into the Army. And I think maybe he was holding a torch for me. But, uh… the moment your father came along, uh, I never saw him again. Uh… I, uh… I was done with all the other men." She smiled a stiff smile and turned the page before finally looking his way. _You happy now?_ Her expression seemed to say.

Bobby tried to smile at her. He wanted to believe her, but he'd been a detective a very long time. He knew what he'd seen, what he'd heard. Three truths and a lie, and you could fool anyone, that was what they said, wasn't it?

He drove back to the city and ended up staring at his bedroom ceiling once again. It wasn't just that his mother had had an affair. It wasn't just that she had crossed paths with Mark Ford Brady. It wasn't even that she might have enjoyed her time with Brady…

It was the timeline. The more Bobby thought of it, the more he realized that Brady, the rapist, the killer… might be his father.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

In the morning, Bobby resolved to believe his mother. She was dying after all. Why should she lie?

He briefed Eames and the Captain, handing over the picture of his mother in the Houndstooth suit.

Ross saw the holes immediately, only he didn't believe the photograph Brady took was of Goren's mother. "If this is your mother, then why is her picture in Brady's scrapbook from the 60's?"

"Like she told me, they dated."

"In the 50's, you said… before Brady was even in the Army. He claims this was taken after he was discharged, eight years later."

"Well, it's possible this is another woman," Eames offered, her voice calm and quiet. "Brady said he worked for this woman as a handyman."

"He's toying with you," Ross said, looking right at Goren. "Now, you're personally invested. He's got you exactly where he can control you."

"No, he's not in control of me. I can handle him," Bobby protested.

"No. Detective, you don't need this in your life right now."

A chill went through Alex. She knew Ross was only trying to help Bobby, what with his mother and all, but this was not the way to go about it. Sure enough, Bobby popped.

His voice was quiet, but he spoke his mind. "You don't know what I need." He gave the Captain a cold stare. "Okay, and don't tell me who I am. You don't know who I am and don't tell me how I think." Again, he stared at the Captain. The anger was written on Bobby's face.

Ross paused a moment. Alex's mind was already racing, trying to figure out how to smooth things over between the two men. She wasn't sure anyone could talk to Bobby right now. He simply had too much on his plate to try and conquer his emotions, as well.

Ross was angry, too. "I'll just tell you this. You're off this case." He walked out.

Alex raced after him. That was the last thing Bobby needed. He was invested in the Brady case, personally or not, and he needed to decide for himself when to leave it. "Captain? Captain. Captain! I'd like you to reconsider." She followed him into his office.

"Is he getting any sleep at all?!" Ross demanded, revealing he knew a little more about their partnership than he let on.

Alex shut the Captain's door. She didn't answer his question, only pleaded with him. "You can't ask him to walk away."

"Your partner is too close to this!"

"I'm not," Eames countered. The Captain was quiet. She had his ear. Alex took a deep breath. "If I feel he's losing control, or his judgment is off, I will come to you."

He read the determination in her voice, in her body language. It was Ross's turn for a deep breath. "Okay, Eames. He's your partner. But take care of yourself. Don't let him pull you down with him."

She nodded. "Thank you," she said, and walked out of the office, back to Bobby.

He still sat in the interview room. He sat staring at the faded picture Brady had taken of his mother. He was still seething, but he wouldn't take it out on Eames. She was all he had.

"Well, did you talk him out of it?" Bobby asked. "Promise to 'keep an eye' on me, or whatever it is you always do?"

Alex approached slowly, and sat down beside him so that her knee just bumped against his leg. "Yeah," she said quietly. "You want to fight about it?"

Bobby pursed his lips and shook his head, trying not to smile. They were quiet a moment, and she could see he wasn't as angry any more. "I'll get you a coffee, and maybe we can work on that one," she said, pointing to a photograph that had a clear picture of a building that had half a sign showing.

He nodded, and whispered, "Okay," as she left the room.

* * *

It was almost lunch when Bobby's cell rang. "Hey Bobby," Frank said.

"Hi Frank." Alex glanced over at him, but his face was blank, as it often was these days.

"I just came from seeing Ma," Frank told him. "She, uh… Look, can we talk?"

Bobby checked his watch. "Sure, look, I'll uh, I'll meet you for lunch." They agreed on a place and a time and Bobby hung up.

"Everything okay?" Alex asked.

"He wants to talk. Look, I'll meet you back here, later."

"Sure, Bobby."

As an afterthought, Bobby grabbed the picture of Brady and stuffed it in his pocket. Frank was older, maybe he could explain the timeline to him more clearly.

* * *

They ordered coffee, and Frank spoke. "Mom's stopped eating," he told his brother. "She just… stopped." Bobby slid him the sugar. "Said the food's lousy anyway." They both smiled a little at that.

"I gotta, ask you a question okay?" Bobby said. "Look. This picture here. Bobby pulled the picture of Brady out of his pocket and showed it to Frank. "You recognize this guy, maybe from when we were kids?"

"Yeah, that's Uncle Mark," Frank said without hesitation. "Oh my God, you don't remember him?"

Bobby was surprised. He sat back a little, eyes intent on his older brother. He shook his head.

"He used to bring you little gifts. Signed baseballs and hockey pucks and stuff. You don't remember that?"

Bobby shook his head. "When?"

"I don't know. Whenever Dad was away. The last time you were four, 'cause I was seven. It was when we had that Cooperstown disaster."

"When Grandma was sick?" Bobby asked, thinking he remembered now.

"No, that was afterwards. And Grandma wasn't sick. Mom got in a car crash and she stayed with Grandma. You got the story wrong."

Bobby sighed and squirmed, piecing together what he knew with what Frank was telling him.

"Dad had booked this hotel in Saratoga near the track. Big surprise. Mom got mad. He went on his own."

It just wasn't adding up. Bobby squirmed again, turning away and then back. "Wait, well, how did Mom get in a car crash?"

"She went upstate with Uncle Mark," Frank said, pointing at the picture.

Immediately, Bobby thought of Miss Hill and the fisherman's shack. "She went with Uncle Mark?"

"She went with Uncle Mark."

Everything inside of him was screaming _no no no no!_ Bobby bit his lip and asked, "Who took care of us?"

Frank smiled. "I did."

"No, you did not!" Bobby said, laughing.

"The whole weekend!" Frank tapped Bobby's chest with the back of his hand, and Bobby smiled at him. "Yeah, when Mom came back she was all black and blue. Then she stayed at Grandma's for I don't know how long. You really don't remember any of this?"

Bobby shook his head. "No, I don't remember."

Frank looked back at the picture. "Wow. I haven't thought about him for a long time." He took another sip of his coffee.

* * *

When he returned to the squad, Bobby was determined to see Brady, to confront him about his mother. Alex tried to talk sense to him. "Your brother might have it wrong," she said gently.

"No. He doesn't. He was older, and he remembers." Bobby gathered up what he would need and tucked it into his binder.

"Still, it doesn't mean-"

"I was looking in the family album. My mom, she was happy, you know, she was smiling. And then something happened. And she was never the same after that. She was just never the same."

He walked out of the room and Alex chased after him. "Bobby…"

"He planned this, Brady… from his first move," Bobby said. He was almost to the elevators.

"Come on!" Alex urged him. "I'm your partner." She stood in front of him and he finally held still long enough to give her a long look. She could see the red rims of his eyes. He'd been crying again, before he came back here.

"So then you're gonna have to trust me, Eames," Bobby told her.

Somebody almost bumped her coming out of the elevator and she stepped aside. She stepped aside a little more, and Bobby went past, giving her a quiet look of gratitude. Once he was inside, however, he hung his head. He shouldn't have played that card, not on Eames.

Alex watched the elevator doors closed, thinking she had just made a big mistake. She fingered the cross at her neck and said a silent prayer to God to watch over Bobby.

* * *

He put the puzzle together again during the drive to Pennsylvania. His mother had dated Brady, before the Army, and when the man had come back, she was married. He held a torch for her, she said. He must have realized she wasn't happy with his Dad… all the times he left them alone for weekend gambling excursions. And Brady used that, preyed on her loneliness, made her feel special.

She'd had an affair. And then one day, Brady had taken her to the lake. And she must have tried to break it off because he'd beaten her black and blue.

By the time Bobby checked in through security at the prison, he was boiling with rage. He waited quietly for them to bring the prisoner, not sure exactly what he would say, but determined to face the man, anyway.

"Where's your partner?" Brady asked.

Another surge of anger swept through him. He didn't even want Brady to think about Alex. "She thinks that you're wasting our time," Bobby told him.

"But you don't feel that way, do you?" the prisoner asked.

"Who is she?" Bobby asked, pushing a picture in front of the man.

Brady looked up at the detective. "Any word from the Governor?"

Bobby stared at him, and thought of his mother, facing her own death sentence. "You're afraid of death, aren't you?"

"I've seen a lot of death," Brady replied.

"I've seen a lot of death, too," Bobby snapped back. "But for you, it's about control. That's what it's all about."

"And you're not here to profile me, are you?" Again, Brady pulled the garbled picture of Bobby's mother out of the pile. "It's all about her, isn't it? Bambi. The one woman I could have loved."

Tears were welling in Bobby's eyes. He swallowed and forced them back, then looked at Brady.

"She married another man, but she didn't forget about me. I'd see her in New York, on leave. We were together the night Kennedy was elected. We celebrated together."

Bobby watched the man smiling, remembering times with his mother. He was more disgusted by the minute. "You were in Germany in 1960."

"I said I was on leave!" He looked at her picture and sighed. "We drifted apart after that, but I was there the weekend this photo was taken."

Bobby's anger was rising up, causing his face to twitch. _No_ he told himself, unaware that he had mouthed the word. _No._

"The magic was still there," Brady added. He smiled. "That's what you wanted to know, wasn't it?"

Bobby's face was full of tears now, threatening to fall. He shook his head. "No," he barely managed to say. "I can't…" He sat back, trying to get control, but again, he thought of them together, of Brady beating her in the shack. "I can't," he muttered again, and without another thought, his hands were on Brady's throat and he'd dragged the man to the wall. He shoved him hard against the rough blocks of the prison wall.

"Go ahead! Go on! Kill me!" Brady shouted. "You can do it! They'll let you do it!" He said, eyeing the guards. "They don't care!" Brady said, and Bobby sobbed.

"Nooo!"

"You have it in you! You have it in you!" Brady cried, and Bobby thought once again that Brady was his father. He let go, turned, and threw his head against his arms, sobbing on the tabletop.

Brady stood against the wall, breathing hard. The guards stood by, eyes straight ahead, a witness to nothing Goren had just done.

Finally, Brady tried to move toward Goren. "I always wanted a son," he said.

The guards moved in quickly and caught him. "Shut up!" The bigger one ordered. "Detective, I'm gonna take him back to his cell."

Bobby stood, keeping his back to them all, but he nodded.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Ross had asked, and so she'd told him Bobby had gone back out to question Brady. The Captain wasn't happy about it, but he didn't say anything more than "And you think that's a good idea?"

She had simply stood tall and told the Captain, "I trust him."

Now it had been four hours, and she was sure the interrogation was over. Alex was worried as hell. She sat in front of the pictures from Brady's scrapbook, scrawling notes and pinning them next to the pictures. If someone else had to take over the case soon, she wanted it to be clear how far they'd gotten which each woman on the board.

Her phone rang, and she almost dropped it in her haste to answer. "Bobby?" Alex said.

"I'm, uhm, I'm going to Carmel Ridge."

She could barely hear him. He sounded like someone else. His voice was deeper and scratchier than usual. "Where are you?" She asked.

"Uh," He scratched his head and looked around at the bustling gas station. "I'm at the state line."

"You okay to drive?" He really sounded awful, and as relieved as she was that he wasn't still at the prison, Alex was worried.

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Bobby, call me when you get there."

"Okay."

"Take care of yourself."

"Okay."

"I'm here" was all his text said an hour later. Alex sighed with relief and went back to work.

* * *

He'd done a lot of thinking in the car, and he needed to get to the bottom of it. His mother had lied to him, and he needed to know the truth about Brady. If Brady was really his father, Bobby didn't know what he would do. He didn't know who he was.

But when he walked into her room, she was frail and weak. He kissed her cheek, and she stirred, whispering his name. Bobby felt a sharp pang in his heart, and he tried to take care of her. He sighed and whispered "okay," as he poured her a glass of water.

"Just have a little drink, Mom," he said softly. "C'mon," he pleaded.

"You know what?" she said. Her voice was tired, and she didn't lift her head from the pillow. "You look like you're not taking care of yourself." He turned aside, setting the glass and pitcher on her tray table. "Hey!" She said to him, and he moved back closer to her again. "Your hair's gray. When did that happen?"

Bobby gave her a smile and chuckled softly. Stiffly, she turned away, grasping the rail of the bed with one hand. He settled into the chair beside the bed, fiddling with his hands in front of his chin.

"Frank told me that… that you showed him a picture… of Uncle Mark." Her strength was nearly gone, and it took her a while to get the words out.

Bobby covered his face with his hands. He couldn't ask her about it now, not this way.

"I don't think he knows who Uncle Mark is," she continued, knowing full well that Bobby had figured it all out.

Her words fueled that need that was burning inside him. "Uh… who he is?" Bobby grunted.

"Yeah," she said.

"You mean Brady?" Bobby was blunt. If he wanted his mother to be honest, maybe he should be honest, too.

"Uh-huh," she replied weakly.

"You're telling me that you know…"

"Yeah."

So she knew he was a serial rapist and killer… Bobby took a deep breath. He wondered if she knew something else, too, like if Brady was his father.

Slowly, uncomfortably, she rolled to her back, closer to her son. She was struggling with the pain, and her breathing was labored. "I want to tell you something," she said, looking at Bobby.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on her bed.

"Your father…was always away. A lot." Bobby nodded as he listened. "A lot," she repeated, for emphasis. "When Mark was on leave in New York, I would ask him to put up some shelves… uh, in the apartment and… uh… your father… he got the point."

Bobby gave her a semblance of a smile. It sounded like she was still lying to him. "Do you remember when he visited?" he asked, cross-referencing her story with Frank's.

"Oh, for God's sake!"

"What about the year before I was born?" Bobby pressed. He was angry, and he couldn't understand why she kept lying.

She was upset now. "I don't see why this is so important!"

"Because I need to know!" He interrupted, raising his voice.

"You do not! You do…" She was furious now, her gaunt face haunting as she fumed at him.

Bobby bit his tongue, feeling guilty to have distressed her. "We'll talk about something else," he declared.

She looked away and paused in thought. "I just never knew for sure," she admitted, and Bobby groaned. "Listen to me, Bobby," she pleaded, reaching out with a bony hand and he flinched and turned away. Painfully, he turned back.

"I could never… I could…" she stammered.

He got to his feet, bent over and gently took her face in his hands, kissing her on the forehead. "Ma, don't! Just forget it!" He begged her.

"I could never know for sure." He returned to his seat, and she quieted a moment. "Bobby, shhh…." Then, a whisper: "Bobby, I'm sorry." She pouted, and his compassion overwhelmed him. Then suddenly, she punched him, her breath ragged. "Why, why do we have to talk about it?!" she cried. "What is the point?! Will you please tell me, why do you always… do this?!"

He looked away a moment, his shame getting the better of him. Then she sobbed and he turned back. Overwhelmed with sadness, he said, "Mom… oh, Mom," and his tears welled up, too. She reached out her hand, and he took it eagerly. Bobby stepped closer, caressing her hand with both of his, as she tried to quell her tears.

He stared at his mother, and thought again of her incredible strength. To have endured so much pain, so many trials in her life and to have survived it all. Bobby loved her. He wouldn't speak of it again.

The next morning, he still sat beside her. She was unresponsive now, even in the sparse moments when she opened her eyes. There was a quiet knock at the door and he looked up.

Father Tom stood there, waiting for an invitation to enter the room. "Hello, Mr. Goren, I was wondering if I might come in?"

Bobby stood and stretched, nodding. The priest gave him a kindly smile as he walked in. Bobby had met him before. He made it a point of visiting Carmel Ridge regularly. Ever since he'd heard Frances had stopped eating, he was coming by every day. "She's getting closer," he said, looking at Bobby's mother with compassion. "Soon she'll be free of the pain and worried of this earthly life."

Bobby stood back and said nothing, only gave the man a polite nod.

"She'll want her last rites," Fr. Tom said.

Bobby's eyes snapped to his. He thought it over quickly in his head. The man was right. It would comfort her to know he had abided by the rules of her faith. "Okay," he said quietly.

Bobby watched as he kissed the stole and ducked under it, draping it over his neck. He listened to the prayers, and watched as he anointed her with holy oil. Bobby couldn't help but join in on the final amen.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. The priest tucked his things away and sat down on the couch, now turning his attention to Bobby.

"And how are you holding up?" he asked.

Bobby tilted his head and shrugged, sighing.

"I know you've strayed from the faith, Robert. Your mother told me. But in times like these, the Church can be a comfort to you. God is always with us… whether we want Him there or not."

Bobby cleared his throat and turned away, looking back at his Mom. "Look, uh, I don't really want to…"

"A prayer can be as simple… as private… as a thought, you know."

"Look, you're not helping!" Bobby snapped, raising his voice. Just as quickly, he quieted down. "I just… I don't want…"

"I'll keep you… both… in my prayers," Fr. Tom said, and quietly slipped out the door.

* * *

The afternoon sun was still coming through the window blinds. Bobby realized suddenly that her chest wasn't moving. He glanced up at her face. "Mom?" he whispered. "Mom?" Tears spilled out as he pressed the button to call a nurse. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, crying, and asked once more, "Mom?"

* * *

Alex fished the phone out of her pocket and saw the text was from Bobby. Quickly she opened it and read two words: Mom's gone.

Alex sighed sadly, frowned, and walked to the Captain's office. She knocked, and he turned in his chair, looking up.

"Bobby, uh, just texted me. His mom passed away."

He gave her a silent nod, and she went back to her desk. Alex dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. He must have turned off his phone.

* * *

It was almost five o'clock when the Captain sought her out. He handed Alex a yellow legal pad filled with page after page of confessions. Brady had sketched each victim and written her story out by hand.

"Brady's lawyer brought it in," Ross explained. "Brady said it was a birthday gift for your partner."

Alex frowned as her loathing for the man returned. She flipped through the pages.

"…and requested that she hand deliver it to him. I said he was on family leave."

"How much does it cover?"

"From Germany to his arrest in '92. Names, places, dates."

"I'll let him know," she said quietly.

"Brady's lawyer also wanted to know if either of you would be attending the execution tonight."

She sighed and turned to walk away. "I think we'll pass," she said.

"I left a message for your partner," Ross called after her. "But, when you speak to him, tell him I said to take all the time he needs."

She nodded. "I will."

"Have any arrangements been made?"

She shook her head, thinking of the one conversation she'd had with Bobby since the text came in. She'd had to call the facility to talk to him, he still had his phone turned off. He wasn't thinking straight, overcome by grief and exhaustion. All she'd managed to do was tell him she loved him. "Uh… not yet," she told the Captain.

It was after 8, and Bobby sat in the darkened room that was no so very empty. He'd managed to collect her things into boxes, and had them stacked neatly in front of him. Once that job was done, though, he'd found he couldn't bring himself to carry them out of the room. It was her room, and somehow removing her things was going to give some permanence to this strange notion that she was gone.

She was gone, and rationally, he knew it, but he couldn't accept it. So he sat in the chair and stared at her things, at the barren walls around him, at the empty bed.

The door opened behind him and he heard nurse Theresa's voice. "Mr. Goren?" He turned his head slightly. "I'm sorry. Uhm…visiting hours are uhm… I mean-I mean it's time…"

"I know," he said. "I'd just like to stay here a little while," he said.

Silently, she left him alone in the room.

* * *

The door opened again, and Bobby didn't move. Alex walked up behind him and folded her arms across her chest. "Hey," she said quietly.

Bobby tilted his head and she heard him sigh.

"I can help you with this stuff," she told him. She wasn't going to give him any other option. He was going to have to move on.

He sighed again, crumpling forward in a slouch. Alex's hands were soon moving slowly against his back. She kneeled down beside the chair. "C'mon, Bobby," she said. "C'mon."

He turned toward her, then, and they embraced. Bobby sobbed, and she tried to soothe him. "Shhh," she said. One hand stroked his hair and the other his back.

After a few minutes, he quieted again. "C'mon," Alex repeated, and she held his hand while he got to his feet. She picked up a box and handed it to him. She picked up the other and walked him towards the door. Outside, she asked the nurse to get someone to bring down his mother's paintings. Bobby walked in a daze all the way to Alex's SUV. She helped him load the things into the back and then drove him to the hotel.

He was very quiet, and she didn't push him to talk. They got ready for bed and climbed in. Once there, Alex stroked his back with her hand until he finally fell asleep.

* * *

He was very much in a daze for the next day or so. Alex helped him make the arrangements, a requiem mass and a graveside service. Two days of visitation in the funeral home.

She'd tried to reach Frank, but he'd disappeared again. She left messages with the Church he'd been attending. It was the only way Bobby had to contact him. Bobby had left messages, too, but now he'd completely written off his brother.

He stood, nervously pacing near the front pew of the visitation room, pausing to look at family pictures or to receive the occasional kindness from a visitor.

Ross came, and Logan. Alex's sister dropped by. Fr. Tom popped in and out. A few people his mother knew in the old neighborhood offered their condolences and told him stories about Frances in her prime. Bobby was rigid and polite with all of them. He was getting through this, as best he could manage.

When Lewis came, she finally took a break. Bobby and Lewis had been friends since childhood, and Alex knew if anyone else could keep him together, it would be Lewis.

She'd made the final calls for him, and was surprised to find that he'd already taken care of everything. He'd made the arrangements and paid for it all in advance, and all they needed now were the instructions to move ahead. The funeral home was in Canarsie, and her funeral would be at St. Brendan's, just down the street. The graveyard was close by, as well. After all these years of exile, Bobby had finally brought his mother home.

Alex walked out of the home and sat down on a park bench, feeling the crisp air bring new life into her skin. She'd told Bobby about Brady's confession, and he'd told her Brady might be his father. He told her what his mother had said. Alex had tried to reassure him, but she could see he was looking at himself differently now. He was examining his life through a microscope, trying to see if he'd inherited any of the awful traits of that horrible man.

Now she understood what Brady'd meant when he said the ledger was a birthday present. Bobby had been right, as usual. Brady had been playing a game all along, and he had been the pawn.

Alex took another breath and went back inside, to find Lewis and Bobby standing in front of a snapshot and laughing together. It was a real smile he was wearing, not the well-behaved, polite one that had been pasted on since they started this visitation. She walked over and joined them, and her hand went to his as he and Lewis explained what they were laughing about.

* * *

The funeral was small, but reverent. The handful of people who came, the Captain, Jimmie Deakins, Logan, Wheeler, Alex's father and sister, Lewis, a few people from Carmel Ridge and from the neighborhood were really and truly there for Bobby. He cried once more, and she rubbed his back, and after a while the crowd dispersed. Lewis hugged him, hard, and promised to have him over in the next week or so. Ross told him again to take all the time he needed. Finally, Bobby and Alex walked to his place.

In the safety of his home, he accepted her kiss and then collapsed heavily on his couch. He was tired.

Alex stayed with him through that first couple of weeks, when he finally felt the relief and the guilt and didn't know what to do with himself. She knew that Brady was still on his mind, but she'd done as much as she could to help him with that.

* * *

A/N Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I have decided there will be a part three. I can't seem to be satisfied unless I follow this through to Frame. There will be a brief (hopefully) intermission while I figure out just how I want to get there. It's not over yet!


	43. Chapter 43

Blindsided Part III

A/N This chapter revolves around the episode Renewal. That's a Logan episode, but because of where it falls in the timeline, I thought it was important to explore it a little bit. In case you haven't seen it in a while, the girl he kissed was named Holly, and he found out later her name was really Kathleen.

Chapter 43

_Help me, Mike. You have to help me! _The woman's hand stretched out toward him. He reached for her, but as he drew closer, it seemed she only got farther away from him. Finally, she was enveloped by darkness and disappeared completely.

Logan awoke with a start. As he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes, he was startled again by a sound coming from the kitchen. It was the dog, rooting around, sniffing and jumping up to put his paws on the counter.

Mike held his breath and tried to suppress the pain in his heart. He got to his feet. "Holly," he groaned, and went to the kitchen to do something about the dog.

* * *

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, uhm, hi Alex…"

"Look, I picked up a case. I'm gonna be working with Wheeler for a couple of days. Uh, I don't think I'll be able to come over, you know, until it's done."

"Wheeler? Why? Where's Mike?"

Alex sighed. "I don't know."

Bobby paused. He knew she knew more than she was saying. "Eames."

"Okay, look, Ross didn't tell me, but I did some snooping. His neighbor…he's looking into what happened to her."

Bobby scratched his head. Alex still didn't want to tell him. "Which was what?"

Alex sighed. "She took a header off the roof of the building. The local already wrote it off as suicide, but Mike thinks otherwise."

"And you didn't want to tell me because…"

"Look, Bobby, I know you've got a lot on your mind. I didn't want to add to that."

"Yeah. Well. Okay. Is he okay?"

"Logan? I don't know. I haven't seen him."

"What does Wheeler say?"

"She says he's upset. She thinks maybe he was dating her."

"Look, Alex, I can come back, you know. I don't have to—"

"No, Bobby. Wheeler and I can handle it. Give yourself some more time."

He nodded, and finally said "okay." Bobby looked over at his phone, which was on the counter. He hadn't told her about Declan's condolence call. He hadn't told her how the man had rambled, the things he'd said.

Alex stared at the phone, too. She hadn't told Bobby that Nicole Wallace's name had come up in this case.

* * *

For a moment, when Logan held the gun against Julian's head, he thought about justice. Holly… Kathleen… was a good woman, and she deserved justice.

Logan's mind was racing, but he put the gun away. He arrested Julian for murdering Kathleen. He had time for an unsatisfying goodbye with Wheeler before he found out Julian had been cut loose.

Ross told him the DA said an episode of hypertension wasn't proof of murder. As Mike thought about it, he thought Holly had been right. The guy kept after her, and there wasn't a damn thing that could be done. He'd driven her to suicide, and now he was going to walk away clean, probably to do it again to some other girl.

Logan left and made his way back to Peter's bar. As he waited for his scotch, he thought he saw her in the window.

_I'm not dead, Mike. I'm not dead._

* * *

Bobby walked around the neighborhood, not really looking for any particular destination. Thoughts of Logan kept kicking around in his head. He saw the bright neon of Peter's and suddenly decided a drink might hit the spot. Goren ducked inside.

He was surprised to see Mike there. It shouldn't have surprised him; they both lived in the same part of town, after all. Bobby supposed his subconscious had guided him to Logan's neighborhood. He walked over and sat on the stool next to him at the bar, and ordered a scotch in a firm voice.

"Goren," Mike said with a nod.

"Logan."

Bobby's drink arrived, and the two men sipped the drinks. After a good long silence, Bobby finally said, "It sucks."

Logan raised an eyebrow and waited for him to explain.

"Death."

Logan nodded and took another drink.

"Eames told me." Bobby wriggled uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," was all his friend said. "And you're right. It sucks."

* * *

For some reason, Joe was on her mind. It had been quite a while since his memory had haunted her like this, and she tried to figure out why. Finally, Alex sighed, figuring it must be because of Logan and what happened to his girlfriend.

Alex sighed again. She didn't know for sure the victim was his girlfriend, but it seemed to fit with what people had seen. Someone even said Logan had cried over the girl. Someone else said he'd damned near gotten into a fight with one of the detectives on the case.

With a frown, Alex nodded to herself. That must be why Joe was on her mind now. Another person gone forever, with no warning…no chance to help or to say goodbye.

Alex started the car and pulled into traffic, hoping she could get all the way home before the tears came. She hadn't had even two years with Joe before he was killed. They'd been trying for a baby, but he died before they could live out that dream.

Her heart was breaking all over again. Of all the men she'd ever loved, no one was quite like Joe. He shared her wry sense of humor. He had loved her from the first day he met her, and had pursued her relentlessly until she agreed to go out with him. By the third date, they were talking about getting married.

Alex had never dreamed it would have been like that, but with Joe, it all felt so right. By day, he was her pal, a fellow cop, the best buddy a girl could ever have. By night, he worshipped her. Unless they were in the company of friends, he was always touching, kissing, teasing. In the home they'd built together, Alex was able to let her guard down. She was able to let it go, and just be a woman.

To her surprise, the tears did not fall. She parked the car and walked into the apartment, pausing only briefly to survey the yard and the window for possible intruders before she unlocked the door and stepped inside. She hit the lights quickly, another habit she'd picked up since her abduction. The apartment was clear. There was no need for worry. Alex locked the door behind her and walked in to the kitchen, where she set her things on the table.

Now her thoughts drifted to Bobby. All this time, she hadn't allowed herself to think of Joe and Bobby side by side. There was no need. Joe had come and gone before she'd ever met Bobby. Still, she loved Bobby. For that reason alone, she found them both in her thoughts.

Bobby wasn't anything like Joe. In fact, the only thing he had in common with the man was the fact that he was a cop. For a moment, she wondered what Joe would have said about Bobby, if he'd had the chance to meet him. Reluctantly, she admitted that her husband wouldn't have liked him. He would have been annoyed by all of Bobby's quirky habits. He would probably have discouraged her from the partnership.

Her heart was aching now, and she tried to push the pain away. It didn't matter what Joe would have thought. Joe was dead. He was gone forever, whether she liked it or not… whether they would have had children or not, whether they could have lasted all these years or not. Joe was gone.

Bobby was here, and even though they'd gone through lots of ups and downs, Alex realized with a jolt that she'd been partnered with Bobby longer than she'd even known her husband. This romance they'd been toying with had lasted almost as long as her marriage.

Alex got a bottle of bourbon out of her cabinet and poured a tumbler half full. She took a swig and thought of Bobby. Since even before his mother's death, he'd been battling depression. Their romance had taken a backseat to his family affairs, and rightly so. She tasted the whiskey once more and carried the glass with her to the bedroom. It didn't matter whether they were romantic or not, she loved him as fiercely now as she did when they were in the throes of passion.

She downed the rest of the whiskey and gave him a call, but all she got was his voicemail. Alex cleared her throat and stumbled trying to think of what to say. "Uh, hi Bobby, it's uh, it's me… we closed the case tonight, got the confession. I hope it doesn't bother you but I came to my place tonight. I, uh… I had a lot on my mind, and I didn't want to… bring you down. Well… anyway, I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you." Her voice broke as she spoke the final words of her message. "Bobby, I love you. Uhm… good night."


	44. Chapter 44

A/N This chapter leads us into the episode Amends.

Chapter 44

Bobby never did call her back. Alex went to work the next day with a nagging worry in her heart. Logan was there, however, looking like something the cat dragged in. He fiddled with the papers on his desk and then dropped them all back to the desktop. He walked over to Eames' desk.

"Hi, Mike," she said, her voice subdued.

"Eames. You, uh, you and Wheeler got the confession?"

"Yeah. She didn't tell you?"

"She told me." He shrugged and glanced around. "I just thought, you know, if there's any more paperwork to be done…"

She grinned and handed him a report. "Help yourself." Mike took the report in hand and looked it over, but made no move to leave. "You okay, Mike?"

He shrugged again. "I'm alive."

His words sent a chill down her.

"Look, I'm not ready to dive into all this yet. You wanna go get a cup of coffee?"

"Sure."

They were quiet on the ride down to the cafeteria, but once they got their cups and sat down at a table, he spoke. "I saw Goren last night."

She looked up in surprise.

"We had a few drinks together. He, uh, he said you told him about Holly."

"Sorry if I overstepped—"

"No, it's all right. I… I was glad for the company." He hesitantly added, "I kept thinking she was there… until Bobby came. It helped."

Alex was quiet as she remembered those first few nights in an empty house without Joe. The house was so empty, and there were plenty of times she'd thought she'd heard him shuffling in the kitchen or calling her name.

"My sister thinks there's a time, right after people die, when they can come to us… to say goodbye."

Mike thought of his dreams of Lenny, and then Holly, and he shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. It doesn't change anything, though, does it?"

* * *

Bobby had gone through the boxes of his mother's things. Once again, he studied the photo albums page by page. Again, he saw how happy she'd been before Brady, and how her demeanor had changed after.

He saw pictures from the old apartment, but also from the house. When his Grandmother died, she'd left the house to Frances and the boys. He'd lived there most of his life, until the Army. His mother had lived there until he'd had her committed.

He remembered another box, one that he'd tucked into his closet when he'd first moved her from the house to Carmel Ridge. He rooted through the closet and dragged it out into the open.

He found keepsakes: A drawing Frank had done in elementary school, an essay he'd written in sixth grade about modern lessons to be learned from Alcott's Little Women. Bobby read through it quickly, smiling. Of course she was proud of that. He'd chosen the book himself, and the ideas were all his own. He'd taken a lot of flack from the boys at school for reading that book, too. It was one of the few times when his mother had expressed hope for Bobby. Maybe, if nothing else, he could find a girl and give her the respect she deserved. Maybe, he could find happiness.

He continued sorting through the things in the box. There were things that only held meaning for his mother, things he didn't even remember. In the bottom of the box he found two books. They were library discards, the broken binding repaired by Frances' loving hands. Both were classics, and he remembered the stories well. Absent-mindedly, he fanned through the pages. Some things fell from between the pages. A photograph, a letter, a card from a bouquet of flowers.

The photograph was from Brighton Beach. His mother in the arms of Mark Ford Brady. They were laughing like newlyweds. The card was from his as well, and the letter. Bobby paused before reading it. A knot was forming in his gut, and he felt like he might lose his breakfast. He set the letter down and carried the picture with him to the living room. Hastily, he flipped through the pages of the scrapbook and found a similar picture of his mother with his father. Only neither one of them looked very happy. Mr. and Mrs. Goren looked stiff, like the affectionate arms were only for the sake of the pose.

He glanced back at the beach picture. His mother had a broad smile, and he could almost hear her laughter. Brady's arm was over her shoulder, and though he'd smiled for the camera, he was almost whispering in her ear. His other hand was against her arm, the back of his fingers barely touching her breast.

Bobby tossed the picture of Brady down and pressed his hands against his eyes. With leaden feet, he went back to read the letter.

_My dear Frances,_

_It seems ages since I saw you on the beach. I can still remember the way your fingers felt against my skin, the sweet taste of cherry on your lips. I carry your picture with me everywhere._

_ Germany is a bore. Most of the buildings and streets have been rebuilt, but the people are defeated. The ones we liberated are broken with sorrow from all the loved ones lost. The former Nazis sympathizers are quiet. They go about their business quietly, and if they still resent our presence they don't say so. I think they're secretly glad the war is over. After all, there is no real peace under the nose of a gun._

_ I keep thinking of the beach, the warm sun, the sand hot against our feet. It is cold here now, and I would give anything to have you to keep me warm._

_ I will be coming home soon. I hope you will be waiting._

_ All my love,_

_ Mark_

Bobby's insides were churning. He knew Brady had raped and killed all along, even as the man courted his mother. He went back over the timeline in his head, and heard his mother's words once again. _I could never be sure._

* * *

"Detective Goren," Rodgers said. "I'm sorry about your mother."

"Yeah, thanks," he said quietly. He looked around the morgue. "Could I… speak to you privately?"

"Sure." She led the way to her office, and he closed the door before sitting down beside her desk.

"You know, that Brady case…" he began.

"Good riddance," Rodgers mouthed. She rarely expressed her views, but having examined victim after victim, she had developed a bitter hatred of the man.

Bobby nodded his agreement. "I, uh… I don't know if you know this, but my, uh… mother dated him when she was young."

Rodgers' eyes widened in surprise.

"And, uhm, before she died, I… I asked her about him, and…" He felt his chest tighten. He wasn't sure he could speak the words to another human being. "There's a chance he was my father."

"Holy-" the word escaped her lips, but she stopped herself.

"I contacted the prison. I have his DNA."

"You want me to run a test?"

"To find out for sure," Bobby nodded. "But, Doctor, I have to ask you not to tell anyone. Either way, I'm not sure… what this will mean for me… you know?"

"Of course, Detective."

His expression was troubled, but he whispered, "Thank you, Doctor."

* * *

Bobby's brain continued to kick around the idea that Brady was his father. He walked the streets of the city, trying to let the sights and sounds distract him. Instead, he found he went further into his head, so much so that he didn't pay any attention to where he was walking.

Bobby stopped about two blocks from the soup line. In an alley, he heard a familiar voice, laughing. His feet moved of their own accord, and he grabbed his brother by the shirt, hefting him to his feet. "Frank!" he cried.

Frank was so stoned he couldn't focus his eyes. "Bobby," he mumbled.

Bobby shoved him, letting go of his shirt, and Frank staggered back a few steps. Some of his friends ran off. A few got to their feet and stood watching. Sobs overtook Bobby, and he tried to suppress them. "She… she died, Frank! You didn't even come to the funeral! You didn't—"

"She's in a better place, Bobby," he slurred. "She's happy now. She didn't need me there…"

With a final sob, Bobby shoved his brother hard against the brick wall. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, wiping the tears with his arm.

* * *

Alex stood over the island, cutting up vegetables for a dinner. She stopped when Bobby came in, and when she saw the ragged look on his face, she felt pain, too. "I, uh… I thought I'd make you something for dinner," she explained, gesturing to the food with the knife.

"I don't really need anything, Eames."

"I know. But I thought it would help."

"I don't want your help!" he cried. Bobby emptied his pockets on the counter and then walked past her to his room. He felt bad for snapping at her, but he was annoyed by her presence. Her voice in his doorway stung him.

"Bobby…"

Angrily, he turned his back to her.

"If you talk to me about it, maybe you'll feel better."

"Talking isn't going to change anything, Eames!" He glanced at her briefly, and then turned away again. "It's not going to bring her back, it's not going to make my brother quit using, it's not going to…" he almost mentioned Brady, but he stopped himself. "It's not going to change anything," he said again.

Cautiously, she stepped forward and put a gentle hand on his back. He was still angry, but her hand was a comfort. "Look, Alex," he said, and his voice was softer. "I think I should be alone for a while. I just need time to think. I'll… I'll call you when… when I'm ready."

She rubbed his back a little longer, and then spoke. "Okay… but you'll promise me… you'll take care of yourself?"

He rolled his eyes, but then he nodded. She was only trying to look out for him.

"Okay, Bobby. I love you." She kissed his cheek, then gathered her things and left. His feet were planted on the bedroom floor. He didn't budge.

* * *

Two nights later, Alex's phone chirped. She read the text. "Officer shot in head, on the way to Starch Memorial now."

Alex frowned and was dialing Bobby's number before she realized it. It rang three times, and his new message kicked on. "This is Robert Goren. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

"Bobby, an officer's been shot in the head. He's on the way to Starch Memorial now."

"Eames!" Bobby said, scrambling to grab the phone without dropping it. He'd been sitting on the floor, and it wasn't easy to jump back to his feet. "I'm here."

"I'm sorry to bother you, Bobby," she began.

"No, Eames, no." He was putting his coat on and gathering up his badge and his keys as he spoke to her. "It's right that you called, okay? I'll meet you there."

* * *

Alex rushed in and found her Captain there, along with most of the brass. She heard Ross' voice. "He had a wife and an 8 year old son. She's on the way."

"What the hell happened?" Alex asked, worry apparent in her voice.

"Detective Quinn seated in the driver's side of his unmarked car, took two bullets to the head," Ross replied.

They watched the hospital staff working frantically to save him. "Quinn? Kevin Quinn?" Eames asked.

"You know him?" Ross asked.

"He was my husband's partner…the night Joe was murdered." Alex's gut was wrenched as she realized Kevin didn't have a chance. She knew that she was going to have to try to comfort Kevin's wife.

The cops stood vigil outside the closed curtain until a man in scrubs came out shaking his head. "What was their detail?" Alex asked.

Ross walked beside her as he answered. "They were posted at 106th Street and Jamaica protecting a witness in an upcoming drug trial."

Goren walked up behind Ross, and Alex was glad to see him. "Was his partner in the car?" Goren asked gruffly.

Ross glanced sideways. "You still have two weeks' personal leave."

"Yeah, doesn't matter. Cop has been shot."

"Murdered," Alex corrected him.

Bobby was searching Alex's face. "Quinn. This is the same…?"

"Yeah," Alex replied.

"He was alone," Ross said. "That's why the Chief of D's wants Major Case to take the lead." He tapped Goren on the arm and the two detectives followed him down the hall. "Detective Copa," Ross said, "These are Detectives Goren and Eames."

The man's t-shirt was soaked with blood. He'd cradled his partner's head all the way to the hospital in the back of the patrol car, in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

"We're sorry about your partner." Alex said with a nod, her voice wavering as the emotions started to overwhelm her.

Bobby glanced over at her, and decided he should ask first, to give her a chance to regroup. "So, where were you when your partner was killed?" Bobby asked. His voice was soft and unaccusing, but his words still sounded too sharp.

"Bathroom break," Copa said. "On my way back, I heard the first shot," he said. "I run to the car. I see this short Asian guy at the driver's side… firing the second shot."

"So… you were close enough to see his face?" Goren asked. Bobby had already noticed something he didn't like about the way Copa answered his question.

"Sure," Copa said with a nod. "About 20 feet."

"When you can, we want you to go back there with us," Alex said.

Copa nodded. "I'll change," he said. He walked between the detectives and down the hall. Goren stepped further into the room, closer to the Captain. "Avoiding eye contact," he said. "Did he call in his bathroom break?"

"At 1:40," Ross said.

"What time was his 10-13 logged?"

Alex saw Quinn's wife walking down the hall with Chief Moran. "Theresa," she called. The woman stopped and stared at her through teary eyes. Alex hadn't seen her in years. She held up a hand in a wave. It seemed completely the wrong thing to do. Bobby watched Alex closely. Her eyes never left Theresa as the woman pulled aside the curtain and went to see her husband's dead body.

Bobby wrapped up the evening with the Captain, and convinced Eames to walk out with him. He knew about Joe. She'd told him all about it seven years ago, over a dinner of cold kraut and biscuits. Theresa and Kevin had been dating when Joe Dutton was killed. Alex and Joe had spent lots of evenings with them. Alex told Bobby about losing her husband. She told him about the grief afterwards, and how her friends had just drifted away, one by one. He never forgot even the slightest detail of that conversation. It was their first real moment of intimacy, in his opinion.

She was barely keeping it together, he could tell. Alex was very quiet, and though she held her head high and her eyes were clear, she walked just a little too stiffly. Bobby put his hand in the small of her back. "I can… take you home," he said.

Without a word, she nodded. Alex knew if she tried to speak, she would cry, and she didn't want to cry.

He led her to his car, and she slid into the seat. It smelled like armor-all. Lewis had helped him detail the mustang before the funeral, and she had to admit, there was comfort in the clean smell of the leather. Bobby closed her door for her and soon was in the driver's seat, weaving through the traffic to take her home.

He came in the apartment with her, but he stayed near the door, waiting for her to say something, to open up. She said nothing, and after ten minutes, he was beside himself, unsure what he should do.

"I can… I can stay if you want," he told her, thinking maybe holding her in his arms with his back against the headboard would be just the thing.

Alex's eyes were dull when she responded. She shook her head. "Y-you're not Joe," was all she said.

He ignored the stabbing pain that went through him and scratched his head, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Promise you'll… take care of yourself, Alex," he said quietly. At her nod, he opened the door. "I'll pick you up in the morning," he said before he left.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Bobby was very quiet when he arrived at her apartment to give her a ride. Alex immediately felt guilty about the night before. "I'm sorry, Bobby," she said with a sigh.

"It's… it's okay. You know…" He navigated the mustang through the city streets, easily finding the quickest path through lane changes and back alleys and a short stint on the freeway.

"It's not okay. Joe's been dead a long time, and I should never put you in a position where you're in competition with him. We had something special, me and Joe, but it's gone now. I hurt you last night, and I'm sorry for it."

He listened carefully to her words and gave her a quiet nod. "This isn't going to be easy." The death of a fellow officer was never easy, but given what had happened to Joe and the personal connection he had with the current victim, it was bound to be even harder on them both.

"I know that."

"I… I'm here for you, Alex. You know?"

She was quiet and gave him a smile and a nod. Alex stretched out her fingers and touched his cheek. "You shaved. I kind of liked that beard."

Bobby allowed himself a smile. "Maybe I'll let it grow out again." He glanced her way, and she could see the affection in his eyes.

* * *

Detective Copa said he saw the man fire the second shot, that he got off three rounds, but missed, and the guy escaped on foot. He told them about the woman they had been protecting, Corinne Williams. They brought her in to 1PP for an interview.

"Shoot, cops can't even protect themselves. How they gonna protect me?" she cried.

"One of the detectives took a bathroom break," Bobby said. "Did he use yours?"

"I always let them use my bathroom, offer water. No one asked last night." Bobby blinked and then looked over at his partner. That didn't mesh with Copa's story.

Detective Daniels brought them up to speed on the 86ers, the primary suspects in the case.

"Quinn's murder… a message to Corinne Williams?" Alex postulated.

"They'd have gone after her next if Copa hadn't shown up," Daniels said. He told them there was an APB out on all of them.

Ross added, "200 detectives flooding the zone…We'll find him."

Ballistics was the next stop, then the morgue. Alex was on her game all day, but when they stood over Quinn's body, Alex started to give a little. The two detectives figured the second bullet was meant to send a message.

Someone had to interview Kevin's wife. Alex seemed the logical one to do so, since they'd once been close. They sat on the couch together, sipping tea. "Uh… ahem…Any strange calls recently? Any late night drive-bys?" Alex asked, her face full of apology.

"No," Theresa said sadly.

"Had Kevin gotten any threats?"

"If he did, he wouldn't share it with me." She laughed nervously as the tears filled her eyes again. "Well, you know that." She gave Alex a knowing look.

Alex frowned at the reference to her own pain. "Yes, I do," she admitted.

"I'm sorry," the woman said.

"No. It's okay, Theresa."

"No, it's not," she said. "When Joe died…" She tried to swallow the tears so she could continue speaking. "I remember telling you how sorry I was…if there was anything I could do…when inside, I was thinking…'Thank God it wasn't Kevin.' That's the reason I haven't kept in touch. I can never figure out what to say."

Alex's face reddened as her own tears came to the surface. She reached out and grasped Theresa's hand. She offered the woman a smile and a nod of understanding.

Bobby was in the next room with Copa. "Why didn't I use the witness's bathroom?" he said. "She hates cops."

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "I got that from her."

"I used the chicken joint one block up. You questioning why I wasn't in the car with Kevin when this went down?"

"No," Bobby said, trying to counter the man's defensive tone. "I'm wondering if the killer waited until he saw you take off?"

"Could be." Copa talked about the 86ers, and Bobby took notes. He as much as said Sang was the guilty one.

"But if he's the leader, why wouldn't he send someone else to do the shootings?"

* * *

It was raining as the patrol car pulled up. Bobby and Alex had to lead the man through the gauntlet and into 1PP for questioning. He was accused of killing a cop. He was the most hated man in the city. Two long lines of uniformed officers formed an aisleway for them to bring him in. The man endured jeers and taunts all the way from the car to the door. He would be greeted with more glares and stares as he went through the booking process.

It took Copa an inordinate amount of time to ID the man. In front of Ross and the Chief of D's, he eventually picked the one they expected, but Bobby noticed how he tilted his head and looked out of the corner of his eye to do it. The room cleared, and just before Copa left, Bobby called softly, "Patrick, can I talk to you a second? Just a couple of questions…"

"We got the guy," Copa said.

"Yeah… just some loose ends," Bobby explained, "you know… about your bathroom break."

"Again?" Copa was smiling, now. He thought Goren was being ridiculous. "Every time I see you, you ask me where I took a leak."

"Yeah, I know," Bobby said with a good-natured smile. "It's just that you said you took the break at a chicken joint on Hillside." Copa quietly closed the door, staring at Goren all the while. Bobby shook his head. "That place was closed Wednesday night. You know… the health department."

"You checking up on me?" There was that defensive tone again.

"I don't know. Look. We both know guys get off. You know, a lawyer finds an inconsistency in the case, and… it falls apart."

Copa accepted his explanation. Calmly, he walked forward and gave Bobby a nod. "Okay. I wasn't at the chicken place. I was in a car… up the block… with Rita."

"Uh, Rita? That's a girlfriend?"

"She's a buff. Likes cops. She texted me. Asked where I was. I gave her my location."

Bobby nodded as he listened. It sounded like the truth, finally. He tried to ignore the anger that churned up as he listened to the story of how Copa neglected his partner in favor of a quickie. "Okay. So you were with her when Quinn got shot."

Copa's conscious got to him. He sighed and looked away. He knew as well as Bobby that if he'd stayed with his partner, the man might still be alive. "I was walking back from her car when I heard the shots a little ways away."

Bobby stepped away and raised his right hand to scratch the hair at the back of his head. He walked all the way to the two way on the other side of the room. Bobby flattened his left hand over his tie. "Tell me what my tie clip looks like," he called out, turning back in Copa's direction.

"What?"

"You're a cop, right? You pay attention to details. Describe it." Copa was quiet. "It's a lot brighter in this room than it was at 2 a.m. on that block." Bobby walked closer.

"I wasn't looking at you like you're a suspect," Copa said.

Bobby stood in front of the man and removed his hand. "Well, describe it now."

Again, Copa turned sideways and cocked his head a little.

"Yeah, right there," Bobby said, pointing his finger. "You have problems seeing straight on. You gotta turn to the side, right? You have to look with your peripheral. I saw you do it when you ID'd Sang, and you did it again just now."

"Where the hell do you get off-?!"

"Blind spot… right in your central vision," Bobby continued. "That could be early signs of macular degeneration, I don't know if—"

"My partner was killed, and you're trying to discredit me?!" Copa was furious.

Bobby's anger got the better of him, too. "I'm not gonna put an innocent kid in prison!"

"You think Sang, the head of one of the most violent gangs in the city, is an innocent kid?"

"Yeah. Well, maybe we should wait to put him in prison when we actually catch him for doing something!" Bobby was shouting at the detective now. "Now we both know you did not see who shot Quinn!"

"Screw you!" Copa shouted back. He walked to the door and stormed out and down the hall.

Alex saw the man's anger, and wondered what Bobby had said.

The Chief of D's was not happy. He called Goren onto the carpet in Ross' office. As his partner, Alex was along for the ride, too.

Bobby didn't stop himself from smarting off at Moran, and Alex threw him that look he'd seen so many times. _God, Bobby, what the hell?!_

Surprisingly, Ross came to Goren's defense. "If the ID's no good, we have no evidence linking Sang to the scene. The DA won't touch this," Ross said, as rational as ever.

Again, Bobby didn't stop his smart mouth. Moran tested Sang's alibi, and Bobby spouted, "Okay, well then, we should charge him based on a lie, I think…"

Moran's neck flushed red and he stared Goren down. "I think watch yourself, Detective," he warned. Moran turned back to Ross and gave him hell.

"Detective Goren is doing his job," the Captain said firmly.

"His job is to find Quinn's shooter!" cried the Chief of D's.

"And we intend to do that," Alex said, putting in her two cents.

Pissed, Moran clamped his mouth shut and walked to the Captain's door. His jaw jutted out as he spoke. "The funeral's tomorrow. Good luck explaining this to Theresa Quinn."

Alex frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers as the door clicked shut.

Bobby gave Ross a look of respect, possibly for the first time. Ross ignored the sentiment. "I expect some progress after the funeral's over," he barked.

"Yessir," Bobby said and walked proudly back into the squad room. Alex released her hand and followed him out, wondering if he would ever learn how to deal with Moran.

* * *

Dinner conversation turned into an argument about truth and justice and the price of self-preservation. Alex had her boundaries, too, but she had politicked enough in her career that she was good at the game. Bobby was a slave to the truth, no matter what the consequences, and truthfully, she admired him for it, no matter how many migraines this trait had brought on.

"If he's innocent, then he's innocent, and I won't protect a liar, just because he has a badge!" Bobby cried. "I know what I know, and I'll tell the truth, and I don't care if it hurts him or you or me or anybody to do it. The world has enough lies already, don't you think?!"

Alex hung her head. There was no point in debating something like this with Bobby. He was the clear winner. She shook her head slowly and started to chuckle.

"What?" he demanded, though his tone of voice softened. She sniffed, and laughed some more. "What?" He asked again.

"I don't know how you managed to stay on the force for so long, Bobby. No, wait. I do. It's because you're the best."

He sat down again, and reached his hand across the table, offering it to her. "Ross backed me up… did you hear that?"

"Of course he did, Bobby. Because he knows you're right. He knows you're the best, too, Bobby."

A slow smile spread across his face. He'd been battling with Ross for a long time, now, and he couldn't believe he had the man's support.

Alex gave his hand a squeeze. "Moran was right, you know, about tomorrow. It's not going to be easy." She yawned then, and covered her mouth with her hand. "We'd better get some sleep."

Holding her in his arms was the highlight of his day. He hadn't been so close to her in a week, and when he tentatively placed a kiss against the soft skin of her neck, she curled into him with a sweet sigh. Bobby smiled and did it again.

Her lips were as soft as ever, and her hands were gentle as they caressed him. Their earlier argument was gone now, replaced by easy kisses and whispers of love.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

He brought his uniform in the car to her place, and they both got dressed there. Alex pinned her hair up, and as she started to put in her earrings, he kissed her behind the ear.

He left her in the bedroom and went out to the kitchen, tucking, straightening, and putting on his tie. He tucked his arms into his jacket just as Alex walked into the room. She stopped in her tracks, admiring how handsome he looked in his dress blues.

In silence, she moved forward and brushed some lint from his lapel. They shared a tender kiss, then gathered their hats and things and left the house.

* * *

Bobby was very quiet on the drive. He kept thinking about what Moran had said, about the grief of Kevin Quinn's wife. They were all grieving the loss, but no one more than she. Bobby and Alex stood at attention at the funeral, and it was clear that the word had gotten around about what had happened between Goren and Copa. It was common knowledge that Sang had been cut loose. Bobby endured a lot of glares and a lot of cold shoulders.

Alex drove them back to Theresa's house. As she came around the car, Bobby got out and said, "Look, I'm not gonna go inside, all right? I don't have a lot of friends in there, all right?"

Alex stared at him. He was talking fast, the way he did when he was nervous. It was a sure sign that his emotions were getting the better of him.

"Be, uh… well…" He'd almost told her to be careful. He didn't want their hatred of him to fall on her. At last he nodded and just said, "Go."

Alex hadn't felt so terrible since Joe's funeral. All of the pain was back now, and she knew exactly how Theresa felt. She nodded at Bobby and walked toward the house, her head hanging low for just a moment.

Bobby was leaning back against the car. He turned his head and saw Detective Copa come between the cars to walk up to the yard. Bobby stood up straight, but looked down at his feet.

Copa swaggered over. "You have the nerve to show up here?"

"Your partner and m-my partner were close," Bobby told him. "All I wanna do is find the killer."

Copa stepped even closer. "I'm on desk, pending a medical. Maybe looking at forced retirement. Well done, Detective," Copa told him before walking away.

Inside, Alex was having a hard time. She found a picture on a shelf from days gone by. It was St. Patrick's Day, and she and Joe were laughing with Theresa and Kevin. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at Joe's sweet smile.

She felt a hand on her arm and her head snapped back to see who it was. Theresa was comforting her. Alex stared at the photograph again as Theresa hooked her hands around her arm and held them there.

"St. Paddy's Day Parade, '95," Alex said. "Right after we got married."

"Remember they were singing, uhm…"

"Wild Rover," Alex told her, and Theresa laughed.

Alex smiled at the memory. "It's the only song Joe knew," she told her friend.

"Yeah," Theresa said. "Kevin was playing the pipes. He loved the parade…" She started to cry, "…because he was usually playing at funerals."

"Oh, Theresa!" Alex breathed. She held the woman in her arms. "You'll get through this. I did."

Pulling away from the embrace, Theresa whispered, "Is it true your partner made them release that bastard?"

Alex sighed, but said nothing.

Outside, paced by the car, Bobby watched a young boy, Quinn's son, on a kind of jointed skateboard. The boy went up the sidewalk and back, and seemed to be able to propel himself with a wiggle of his foot rather than putting his foot back on the concrete. As Goren turned his back to pace the other way, the boy drew closer. "Yo, heads up!" He cried, crashing into Goren.

"Oh, okay…" he chuckled and picked up the skateboard. "Wow, this looks tricky, huh?"

"Kinda," said the boy as he put his skateboard back on the ground. "You move your feet like this to go forward."

"Right."

"And you shift your weight to turn."

"Nice. No sound."

"Uh-uh." As the boy climbed aboard again and slid towards him, he spoke. "So. You hear about that detective that let my Dad's killer get away?"

"Oh, we'll get his killer."

"The Chief of D's, he told my mom that that detective was a whack job."

Bobby was both angry and hurt by the remark, and he couldn't hide it from his face. He looked down and sniffed. There was no reason for the boy to be hearing such things, and he wouldn't burden him with adult concerns.

"See you," the kid said.

* * *

Evening was falling as Bobby drove them away from the house. "So, how did it go in there?" he asked her.

"Not good," Alex replied, but her voice was strong and her eyes were clear.

Bobby chewed on his lips a moment. "I wasn't very popular, either," he said.

Alex looked at him, registered the pain subtly masked in his expression, and shook her head. "I knew most of those guys in there," she said. "They were at the hospital… at Joe's wake…" She shook her head sadly. "Then one by one, I stopped hearing from them." She scoffed. "I haven't seen anyone in that room in eight years."

Bobby stopped at a light, glanced at her, and then spoke. "Well, after a loss, you know, people, they… you know… well, they screw up." He glanced over at her with a shrug, hoping she understood what he'd said was a confession. _I'm sorry I've been such an ass since my mom died._

Alex didn't seem to have noticed. "After Joe died, it got complicated. Without him… there wasn't a place for me anymore." She looked back out the car window again and shook her head. Alex almost laughed as she spoke. "And you know, today, I think they all realized it. But not one of them had the guts to talk to me. Nobody but Theresa, that is."

"Sh-she understands now."

Alex nodded soberly, sighed, and rested her forehead against the palm of her hand for the rest of the drive home.


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Bobby was starting to stir at 5 a.m. He lay listening to Alex's quiet breathing beside him and thought over the events of the day before. Alex had needed him yesterday. She'd told him a lot about time and change and death and how she'd managed to move through it. And she'd told him about Joe. Lying in Bobby's arms, she'd told him about the man she'd loved enough to promise him the rest of her life.

Bobby hadn't told her much about the encounter with Copa. He hadn't breathed a word about his conversation with Kevin Quinn's little boy. Moran had it out for him; that was nothing new. Thinking of it now, Bobby sighed and turned over. He was just thinking of getting to his feet when his cell phone rang.

"Goren." Though he spoke quietly, Alex was already stirring. There was only one reason for a 5 a.m. phone call. "Okay. We'll be there." He hung up. "Daniels had a call out. He thinks there's a link to Quinn's killer."

She was already up and moving. Bobby watched her walk to the bathroom and shook his head. Two cops in a relationship. Instead of "good morning," they greeted each other with news of death.

* * *

"Same M.O. as Quinn," Daniels explained, "Right down to the shot in the eye."

The sun wasn't even fully up yet as the Detectives marched down the street to stand over the body.

"I know him," Alex said. "That's Alfred Minaya. He testified against the shooter in my husband's murder case."

Bobby couldn't help but connect the dots. Both murders linked to Joe Dutton. Maybe this wasn't about Quinn's case after all. Maybe it was about Alex's husband. He glanced her way with concern and saw her gulp in a couple of breaths. After last night, he knew there was nothing he could do to make this any easier for her. Alex was grieving, and he couldn't confront her with that on the cold city streets in front of the CSU team. He squatted down to examine the body more closely.

* * *

Alex was quiet in the car, and Bobby finally broached the subject. "You have to fill him in… Captain Ross…" He said it with a knowing nod of the head.

"It's not about Joe."

"Still, there are links between these murders and your husband. Ross needs to know that."

Alex sighed. "And what if he wants to take us off this, Bobby?"

Bobby scratched her head and then gave her a smile. "You'll think of something. You always do. Tell him… I don't know… how I don't like change or something…"

She was quiet again. "I want to see this through, Bobby. I want to give Theresa… what the others gave me…"

He nodded again. "Closure."

"Yeah. Closure."

* * *

She stood in Ross' office with her back to him as she tried to muster up the strength to tell the story of her husband's death. She took one last deep breath and began, "My husband was working undercover…" Alex turned back to face Ross and scratched at her eyebrow. "A big buy… alone with two dealers." She paced across the room as she sadly spoke. "He was wired up, the techs lost transmission. Quinn rushed the building. By the time he found Joe, the dealers were gone, and Joe had been shot in the stomach."

She closed her eyes a moment. "He never fully regained consciousness. He died a day later."

"And Minaya?" Ross asked.

"One of the two sellers. When they caught up to him, he cooperated. He ID'd Ray Delgado as Joe's killer. Minaya testified he saw Ray fire. Quinn testified he saw Ray fleeing the scene."

"And suddenly, they're shot within 4 days of each other." Alex frowned while her Captain took a deep breath and looked away. "You know I'm gonna have to take you off this."

"This isn't about Joe's murder. That's been solved! This is about Kevin Quinn's murder."

"It's also about appearances," Ross explained. "We don't want to catch this guy and have his lawyers say it's a trumped up bag of charges because the lead detective is out for revenge."

"I kept my maiden name," she countered. "My husband's name was Joe Dutton. No one is ever gonna make the connection."

"Eames, it has to come out."

"Someone new is gonna waste time getting up to speed." Suddenly she was very glad she'd had that talk with Bobby in the car. "And my partner," she added, "he doesn't adapt well to change."

Ross spared a glance through the glass wall of his office, and saw Goren pacing on the phone by his desk. "Okay, I'll try to keep you on for as long as I can, but as it becomes clear that what you're working on involves your husband's case…"

"I understand."

The man nodded and looked through the glass again. "Tell him he can stop pacing and join us."

Bobby hung up the phone and looked in on Eames, then resumed his nervous pacing.

Alex waved to him, welcoming him in. With a little nod of the head, he strode forward. "So I just heard from ballistics." He was talking about the case, but the penetrating look he gave his partner betrayed his concern for her. Minaya and Quinn were killed with the same gun." Alex looked away quickly with a tough nod of her head.

"What do we have on Minaya?" asked the Captain.

"Deals heroin and crack in the parks… multiple arrests. Six eyewitnesses. Six different descriptions, but they all agree that the shooter came out of nowhere."

"There were some skateboarders in the park nearby," Bobby offered. It was a notion he was entertaining, that the killer may not have been on foot.

"So our killer uses antique ammo and seems to be avenging a nine year old crime. Delgado, the shooterin your husband's case… where is he?"

"Upstate. Dannemora, life sentence. This could be revenge."

"Yeah, but why now?" Ross asked with a sour expression.

"What I heard from the PBA," Alex said, "Two months ago, Delgado lost his last appeal."

The Captain warned Eames once again, and in front of her partner, to take the back seat whenever things got close to her husband's case.

* * *

The drive to Dannemora was distinctly unpleasant. Eames was determined to go in with Bobby, and he was determined that she follow the Captain's orders. Finally, she reminded Bobby of her rank and he convinced her to compromise by at least hanging back and letting him do most of the talking.

If Bobby had known the kind of thoughts going through her mind, he would have willingly given the case to someone else.

_I loved Joe, and he killed him. I love you. Do you really think I'd leave you alone in a room with him?_

Bobby walked in and sat across from Delgado while Alex hung back by the doorway. Delgado saw her immediately. "You're the last person I expected to see on a visitation."

"Ray, you know why we're here," Bobby said, trying to put himself between the two, to deflect the man's attention from Alex, to protect her.

"Yeah," the convict said. "You're pissed I'm reopening my case." His eyes never left Eames, in spite of Bobby's efforts.

"Your last appeal was denied," she said coldly.

"Project Innocence might take it on."

With a sick feeling in her gut, Alex looked away.

"You're innocent?" Bobby asked, as if he was genuinely surprised by the comment.

"Hey look, I might have done a lot of things, but I didn't kill your husband," Ray said. He still kept his eyes on Detective Eames.

Both Detectives were quiet. To Delgado, it was obvious they didn't believe him. "Two witnesses put you there," Bobby finally said. "You're saying that they lied? Must make you angry."

"Yeah. It does," Delgado replied, glancing down to rub the fingers of one hand.

"Angry enough to have them killed," Alex spouted from her corner. "We're going through your visitor logs and your cellmate records."

"Go ahead," he told her firmly. "You know how guards treat a cop killer here in prison? They're on me 24/7. I got no time to arrange a hit or afford one."

"So," Bobby said quietly. "You're innocent now. You were innocent then. So why did Quinn and Minaya ID you?"

"Minaya and I were in the same posse. Whoever was with him that night might have outranked me."

It was a reasonable answer. Bobby looked back to his partner, wondering if she could handle his next topic. Turning back to Delgado, he continued. "The night Joe Dutton was killed?"

"I was at work."

"Dealing," Alex interjected angrily.

"Yeah," the man told her. "Tompkins Square."

"Too bad. If you had a real job, you'd have a real alibi!" Angrily, she paced away from them. After a moment, Bobby got up and followed.

They were quiet until they hit the pavement outside, and then it all erupted in a new argument. "Look, he didn't even seem to get a charge out of talking to you." Bobby was convinced that somehow, Alex could be reasonable about it all. "You're the widow! I didn't even see a hint of him asking for forgiveness."

"So you think he's innocent because he didn't say 'sorry?!'"

"No. The pressure that we got to nail Sang… in Joe's case, they probably got the same—"

"Bobby! Delgado killed my husband! He is angry because his appeal was denied. So he put a hit out on the two people who put him away!" Her words were clipped and punctuated with rigid waves of her hand.

Bobby rubbed his head with one hand. He wanted to keep trying, to talk some sense to her, but she was simply too angry. He mashed his mouth shut, nodded, and walked a few steps toward the SUV. With some effort, he tried to maintain a quiet voice as he spoke again. "Project Innocence is not gonna take on a cop killer… unless there are red flags."

"I'm sure he lied about that, too," she snapped back. She yanked the door open, got in, and slammed it shut.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

It was a quiet ride back. Alex was still angry, and Bobby spent some time thinking. She was grieving, he was right about that. From the way she was acting, he wondered if she had ever really grieved Joe in the first place, or if she'd shoved the pain into some locked compartment and just left it there to fester and rot.

She rattled off something about checking up with project innocence and buried herself away in the paperwork on her desk. She put in a call and while she was hanging on the line, Bobby made a decision. He went down to records and retrieved the file from Joseph Dutton's murder.

He'd just finished hanging it all on the bulletin board when she came in. Upon hearing her voice, Bobby's hand went to scratch his head. He felt as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. "I spoke to Project Innocence. They're not interested in this case." There was a definite tone of indignation in her voice. "They said Delgado's mother has been—" Alex stopped in her tracks. She looked at the bulletin board, the news clippings, the photos of her husband. She saw the yellow stickies scrawled with Bobby's handwriting.

"You're going through Joe's case file?!" It was more of an accusation than a question.

"Eames," he said, again determined to be the voice of reason and hoping it wouldn't turn into another argument. He could already see the anger smoldering in her eyes.

"What do you think you'll find there, Bobby?!" Her voice wavered slightly.

He looked down at his binder, fiddling nervously with his fingernails. "Well, there was a lit cigarette at your husband's crime scene, a menthol."

"I know that! Minaya testified it belonged to Delgado."

"Well, Delgado said that he didn't smoke."

"Well, CSU just couldn't get enough DNA off of it to prove that Delgado was lying."

"Yes, nine years ago!" Bobby cried. "You know that today they only need a trace of DNA."

"Kevin Quinn ID'd him as running from the scene, gun in hand!"

He tried to calm himself again. "Witnesses… make mistakes, and if it's Delgado's DNA, it will confirm his guilt." He gave her a pleading look, hoping she would see he was on her side in this.

"But you don't think it will," she shot back. Everything about her was posturing for a fight. "Is that it?" she demanded, and the tears compromised her voice.

Bobby's eyes flitted down for a moment. It hurt him, too, to know the pain she was feeling. He couldn't back down, though. Ross had warned her, he had warned her, and she wanted to stay on the case. And now, he had to do his job, the same as he'd do for any victim. Slowly, and without a word, he raised his eyes and looked at her.

Alex couldn't keep the tears at bay. She looked down and shook her head. "This isn't… another one of your puzzles," she told him, and it sounded an awful lot like a cry for help.

His eyes met hers again, and he gave her a quiet nod. He understood how much it hurt, he really did. Again, he thought it over. His determination didn't falter. He had to do his job.

Alex saw the determination on her partner's face and she turned her head away.

Bobby sighed. It took all of the strength he had, but he said it. "You know that we have to do this. We've got to do it." He watched her face, full of pain. "If it's not Delgado's DNA, it means he wasn't there… and someone else killed Joe…and got away with it!"

She didn't cry again, but Alex felt as if her heart was torn completely in two. She shook her head sadly and met his eyes again. They stared at each other for a moment, and then she turned away, folding her arms over her chest as she studied the bulletin board in front of her.

Bobby put his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. He closed his eyes, giving her a few minutes of privacy. He prayed that they could somehow get through this… together. Finally, Bobby straightened up in his seat and looked at her.

She still had her back to him. She was standing strong, in spite of the pain that made her slump her shoulders slightly. She was beautiful, but he couldn't tell her that now. As he admired her strength, he said softly, "Alex?"

"We have to do this," she replied. Alex turned around. To his surprise, one of her hands was clasped around the cross pendant he'd given her.

Bobby's eyes softened, and he gave her a nod.

* * *

The evidence officer walked back to the front desk where Alex was waiting. Goren stood two steps behind her. As much as she hated to do this, she was committed to it now. And of all the things they were going to have to dig into, this box of evidence was likely to be the most painful for her. It was the box containing the evidence collected the night of Joe's murder. They needed the cigarette so they could send it to trace. Bobby thought it was only right that Alex should be the one to get the box and to go through it. He was her support now.

"Case 297-06. I got nothing back there."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, shocked.

"It's missing," the guy said, matter of fact.

Bobby took one step closer, but stayed behind Alex, his hands clasped behind his back. "How hard did you look?" he asked.

"Well it's not where it's supposed to be. What do you want me to do, check the whole warehouse?"

Neither Detective appreciated his attitude. "We'll wait," Alex said with a nod. Bobby reached out and touched the counter with the tips of his fingers.

"Lady, you want to spend all weekend here? Be my guest."

After all Alex had been through with this case, she didn't need some bitter cop who probably didn't cut it on the streets giving her a hard time. Bobby couldn't help but interject. "What do you mean, 'lady?'" You mean 'Detective Eames,' don't you? Look. That evidence that you can't find has to do with a cop killer."

Bobby moved in closer until his face was past the chain link barrier that kept the staff safe from the people who might want to steal evidence. "You want me to come back there and find the box?" Goren offered. He was annoyed. "I'll find it. I'll tear this place apart, okay? Hmm? Hmm? Hmm?" He adopted his old school attitude, winking one eye and then the other, his tone of voice threatening. "Because I'm the whack job, understand?!"

Alex didn't move from the counter, but her head lifted at the words 'whack job.' Bobby had never told her about Moran's comment, but she'd heard the rumors. Chances are, so had the man in front of them.

The intimidation worked. "Lighten up, buddy, okay? I'll check it again."

"Okay," Goren said.

Before Alex could say anything, Bobby's cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket. "Yeah… Hang on." He tilted his head away from the phone. "They found Quinn's murder weapon," he told Alex.

Alex rolled her eyes with a shake of her head. What terrible timing! "Well, can you chase that? Because—"

He nodded and walked away, chattering on the phone. For a moment, Alex held her head in her hands. Then she leaned on her elbows until the evidence man came back.

* * *

The weapon was an M-11 A-1 from the Vietnam era. Ray Delgado's cellmates were all still in prison, and family had been his only visitors, which meant if he'd ordered a hit, the family were either the ones who did it or got the message out for him. Bobby went to speak to Delgado's father. The man was a former marine, a Vietnam vet, and he and his wife had been raising their grandson since his father was in prison.

* * *

Miraculously, the box was found. "It must have fallen behind something," the man said as he slid it through the pass-through window. It was his way of apologizing, and Alex nodded her thanks.

As he disappeared back into the back room, Alex carried the box to the table by the wall. It took her a few moments to muster up the courage to open it. With a deep breath, Alex lifted the top of the box away. She opened a paper bag, and withdrew his blood-stained shirt.

Alex remembered buying him that shirt at Macy's. She remembered how it clung to his muscular chest. As she raised it from the box, she saw Joe's blood all over the lower half. She pressed the clean upper part against her face, inhaling the trace of his scent, and sank into the chair and cried. After a few minutes, she retrieved the bag with the cigarette inside.

* * *

It turned out Victor had signed up for the marines and was waiting to go to basic training. Bobby told the man he'd been in the Army, and Ray's father teased him. "Marines make a man out of you." He was proud that his grandson had signed up. The young man arrived home on one of those fancy skateboards. Bobby sat back, watching how adeptly Victor flipped up and caught the skateboard in his hands.

Bobby made conversation with the boy, congratulating him on joining. The old man bantered with Bobby about the Marines while Victor looked on.

"You know a lot of things have changed since then. You know that, right?" He smiled down at the vet. "What kind of gun did you carry back then, a hush puppy?"

"What, are you kidding? An M-11," the old man replied.

Victor realized suddenly that this detective wasn't on the porch for a friendly chat. His smile faded. "Hey listen, Pops, I got to take off, okay?"

"Where you going? Don't be rude."

"You still got it?" Bobby asked.

"Matter of fact, I do."

"Yeah?"

"I got a lot of errands," Victor said, trying to get away again.

"Can I see it?" Bobby asked, staring down at his feet on the porch, completely unthreatening.

"Sure, I got nothing to hide," the old man said cheerfully. Victor will get it for you."

"Oh, yeah?" Bobby asked, lifting his head.

"Go ahead," the man told his grandson.

Victor shook his head, looking between the two men. "I don't know where it is."

"Where it always is. Go get it." The boy squirmed and his grandfather said, "Victor… que te pasa?"

Bobby got to his feet, his badge glinting in the sunlight. "He doesn't know where it is, because he took it."

"Took it?! What the…" The man threw a panicked look Bobby's way. "You're not arresting him, are you?"

Bobby slowly shook his head. "Not if he'll come in for questioning."

* * *

He parked the kid in an interview room and stepped out, making an excuse. The grandparents were on their way. It took the old man a while to get his wife and get to 1PP. Bobby called Alex.

"Hi Bobby," she said. She sounded like she'd been crying.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she lied.

He told her about Victor, the skateboard, and the missing gun.

"I'm already on my way up," she said. "I'll catch the old man and if we need to, I'll book him."

"The kid will cave," Bobby said confidently.

"Okay. I'll be there in a few."

Bobby went back to the interview room and sat down with the aspiring marine.

The kid tried to say the gun was stolen, but Bobby gave him the facts. Victor asserted that his Dad was framed.

After a few minutes, Alex came in and informed Bobby that the room was ready to interrogate the old man. "Relax, Victor, we'll let you see him after his confession, okay?"

Bobby laid it out for the kid again, tapping the tabletop with his fingers. His gun killed Minaya and Detective Quinn. His bullets. He had motive, okay? You said so yourself."

Alex stood by silently as Bobby played the kid like a fiddle. He was so close, but he still wouldn't crack. Finally, she chipped in her two cents. "He'll be eligible for parole in 25," she said quietly.

"But he's 70! He's got diabetes. He has to be monitored."

"So, maybe you can ask that he get a place close to home," Alex said. "You won't have to drive so far."

"You're used to that kind of thing, right?" Bobby prodded. The kid had to drive 5 hours to see his father every week. "Been staring at your Dad through a plexiglass window for your whole life, so—"

"We haven't got all day," Alex said. "Come on."

The two detectives went out the door. As Bobby started to pull it shut, the kid's face screwed up and he shouted, "I did it!" They came back in. "Okay? I did it, not my Grandpa."

The kid made a full confession in interrogation and broke down crying. Ross and Eames watched from the observation room. "There is no such thing as getting even," she quipped.

* * *

She didn't ask him to come over. Bobby wanted to offer, but he wasn't sure that was the best idea, either. So he said goodnight in the parking structure and watched her drive away. For the next two nights, he took the subway home alone.

Rodgers' call caused Alex's shoulders to stiffen once again. Bobby followed her down to the ME's office.

"I'm sorry about your husband," Dr. Rodgers said. "I never knew."

Alex hung her head a moment, then gestured to the envelope in the Doctor's hands. "So the cigarette from the crime scene?"

"There was enough DNA for an ID."

Alex nodded. "Ray Delgado?" she asked, her voice full of confidence.

"No," Rodgers said, handing over the report. "He's not a match."

The pain reared up again, and Alex hung her head for a moment before turning to face her partner. She fought to control the tears and stared at him.

Bobby sat sadly before her, not sure if she was looking at him in accusation or looking to him for support.

She hung her head again, and then looked up at him. "Minaya lied," she said.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "He said that Delgado had the lit cigarette in his mouth when Joe was shot."

"Minaya was the shooter all along," Alex said, looking to Rodgers for confirmation.

"It wasn't his DNA," Elizabeth said.

Alex looked at her, incredulous, then studied the report once again.

"Well, if it wasn't Minaya… wasn't Joe… Someone else was in that room when Joe got shot, Alex." She nodded.

* * *

The found one of Minaya's former gangster friends, and he told them the summer Joe was killed, Minaya had a kid following him around. A kid with a glock.

As they discussed the information, Bobby surmised that the kid wasn't someone from the gang, that he was possibly a family member.

They stopped by to speak with Minaya's mother, opening the interview by telling her they'd arrested her son's murderer. Alfred Minaya's sister was there, too, and she warned her mother in Spanish not to trust the police.

Bobby answered her in Spanish. "Nos preocupa su familia." _We care about your family._

The woman hadn't expected him to know Spanish. She was quiet. Alex asked if anyone else in the family had run in Minaya's crowd, suggesting that they also could be in danger.

Bobby had already noticed the picture on the bookshelf. He grabbed it quickly and showed it to the mother. "Is this Alfred and his brother?" Bobby asked.

"No, his cousin Manny," the woman said. She told them Manny was an emergency room surgeon.

Bobby determined that Manny had been in the city that same summer of Joe's murder, but had returned to Puerto Rico. "He's still in Puerto Rico?" Goren asked.

"Now?" the younger woman said. "At Starch Memorial, in Queens," she answered.

* * *

The staff wasn't happy when the two detectives marched past the desk and into the E.R.

"Dr. Manny Beltran?" Eames asked, recognizing him from the photo.

"Yes?" he said. He stood over a sink, washing his hands. Bobby sat on a stool beside him. "Sorry I can't shake your hand," he said with a smile. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"We're with Major Case," Alex announced. "We're investigating the murder of a police officer."

"Detective Quinn?" the surgeon asked. "We did everything we could, but…"

Bobby was having a hard time sitting still. His head swung one way, and then the other, and finally, he spoke. "That stuff is hard to get off your hands, isn't it? Gets under your skin and your clothes, right?" He watched as the Doctor patted his fingers dry. Bobby reached out and touched the man's hand. "That's not Betadine," he told Eames. He looked back at the doctor. "That's at least a pack a day of nicotine stains like that. You're a doctor, and you smoke, huh? Menthols?"

"When it's your time, it's your time, right?" Manny said.

"Well this may be your time, Dr. Beltran. See, we're… we're not here about Detective Quinn. We're here about another Detective. Joe Dutton. You see, nine years ago, a cigarette butt was found at the scene of his murder."

"The killer smoked it," Alex said, emphasizing the word 'killer.' "That's what a witness told us… but you remember that."

Dr. Beltran paled. He said nothing.

"They can do amazing things with forensics, huh?" Bobby said. He tilted his head slightly, and made eye contact with the man. "Whole decade gone by…just a trace of DNA…but you're a doctor. You know about that."

Alex glared at him, the man who undoubtedly killed her Joe.

"The cigarette," Beltran said. "You found a trace, didn't you?"

Alex nodded. "What did you think, that this wouldn't catch up with you?"

"I swear to God, it was an accident. A terrible accident."

Bobby leaned hard against the wall, his arms folded. He watched Alex step closer to the man, and he watched the man sit down in defeat.

"So many years ago…" the man continued. He looked up at Alex. "I still have nightmares."

"You killed a police officer," she said, accusing.

"I thought he was going for a gun!" the man cried, removing his stethoscope from around his neck. Bobby straightened, ready to step in if he tried anything. "I didn't realize until after I'd shot him that he was just going for his shield."

Alex's face was twisted with pain. She had imagined Joe's last moments so many times, and she'd never imagined it like this. "But you never came forward," she finally said.

"Alfred put me on a plane to San Juan the next day. We never talked about it." She shook her head, and he got back to his feet. "I save people," he said emphatically. "I've saved hundreds of lives."

She shook her head again. "It doesn't make up for the one you took away." After a pause, she kept her voice firm and said, "Manny Beltran, you are under arrest for the murder of Joseph Dutton." Bobby's hand was at the joint of his neck. The other hand came down to steady his arm. Bobby turned the Doctor so Alex could cuff him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I never came forward. That officer…he's why I became a doctor… to make amends somehow. I took his life away. I have no idea who he was."

With a sad nod of the head, Alex spoke. "He was a good cop." She snapped the cuffs and stepped back to call in the uniforms to take him into custody.

Once he was gone, Bobby put his hand against the small of her back and they walked out of the ER together. Without a word, Bobby went to the driver's side, adjusted the seat, and got in. He tweaked the mirrors while she got situated.

"I can... I'll call in a dinner break, if you want. We don't have to hurry back."

Alex covered her face with her hands and gulped in a breath of air. She nodded, her face still hidden behind her hands. Bobby made the call and eased the car out into traffic. By the time they'd gone a mile, she was sobbing. He pulled over and took her into his arms, holding her as she shook against him.


	49. Chapter 49

A/N I forgot to mention that the song "Two Hearts" by the Jayhawks went through my head an awful lot while working on Amends. It seems to fit our heroes pretty well…

Chapter 49

Bobby wrapped up the loose ends with Beltran by himself. Alex had completely fallen apart, and he'd had to take her home. It had been hard to leave her there, but he had every intention of returning as soon as the job was done. He picked up some takeout on the way over, enough for two in case she hadn't eaten. He rang her bell, and was pleased when the door swung open.

He was unable to return the hug because his hands were full. Alex rested her whole self against him, and all he could do was lay his cheek against the crown of her head. As she pulled away, he kissed her cheek. "You okay?" he asked sincerely.

She frowned, but she nodded, and she didn't cry. "I spoke with Liz," she said, "and Dad. That helped."

He gave her an encouraging smile, and held the takeout bag up a little. "I brought dinner," he said. "Hungry?"

She didn't answer, but led the way to the kitchen. She got him a plate and one for herself and sat down across from him. Bobby dished his food out and offered to do hers, but she held up her hand and took the carton from him. She got a tiny portion out of the box, and sat down to twirl her fork through it. It didn't escape Bobby's attention that she never took a bite.

"Paperwork's done," he told her. "You could take a couple of days, if you want. Logan's due back tomorrow, anyhow, and they're bringing in his new partner."

She nodded, and he could see how tired she was. "I might do that."

"It's good to," Bobby agreed. "You know… take some time…"

"We were trying for a baby… Did I ever tell you that?"

He locked his eyes on hers in surprise. Silently, he shook his head.

"A couple of months before he died… we decided we wanted… and so we were trying…"

"I'm sorry, Alex."

"I don't hate him. Beltran. Why don't I hate him?"

One of Bobby's shoulders shrugged. "Maybe he did make amends, in a way."

"I don't hate him, but I can't forgive him, Bobby. He took Joe from me. And the baby we might have had…"

"When you thought it was Delgado, you felt differently."

She nodded. "It was different then… a cold blooded killing… now I know… the truth."

"A stupid kid… made a lethal mistake…"

She nodded again. She was thoughtful a moment. "I _can_ forgive _you_, though…" she reached out her hand, and he scooped it up in his. "And I suppose I should thank you."

He shook his head.

"It feels better… to know… the truth."

"You know… there are all these… rules… about grieving… There are no 'shoulds' here, Alex. You loved him. You were planning a family with him… it's okay to mourn that."

"Doctor Olivet told me I'd never grieved him. I blew her off." A tear slipped down her cheek, and she said. "I guess I never really did."

"Everybody tried… to be there for me… Mom, Dad, my brother and sister… I guess I didn't let them. I was too busy being strong. I _was_ sad, Bobby. I cried, and I felt the loss. But I guess that was all."

"The people we love never really leave us," he said.

With a nod, she continued. "I lived with the loss, but I guess I never really gave myself permission to live with his memory."

* * *

Rodgers called Bobby into her office the next day. With an earnest expression, she said, "I had this yesterday, but with everything going on with your partner… I…" She held out an envelope.

"This is it?" he asked, though he already knew what he held in his hands.

"He was your biological father."

Goren closed his eyes and was very still.

"I'm sorry," Rodgers added.

"No. Y—forget about it. Thank you." He tucked the envelope in his binder. He didn't open it. He didn't read the report. He stood tall, gave her another nod, and walked away.

* * *

"Alex, I… if you're okay, that is… I really need to take care of some things at my place…"

"It's okay, Bobby. Go ahead. I'm all right."

He thought about telling her the real reason why, but he only took a breath and breathed "thanks," into the phone. There was no reason she should know. It would only cause her worry. And though Bobby wasn't happy about the results, in his heart he'd already known. He would be fine. He wasn't defined by this genetic code. He was defined by the choices he made: from moment to moment, from day to day.

Bobby chose to live as he always had: to honor the things his mother had taught him. She had shaped him into the man he was, after all, with a little help from the Catholic Church and the school of hard knocks.

He'd had a lot of influences, really. And he could honestly say he was glad for the minor role both of his fathers had played in his life. The father he'd known was abusive and selfish. His abandonment had been a blessing in disguise. And his biological father, the cold blooded killer, could have only done him harm. Frances had had her faults, but she'd taught him love, and that was something to be grateful for.

Once he got home, he poured himself a drink and opened the envelope. DNA reports weren't something he read every day, but he'd seen enough of them to know what he was looking at. Rodgers had told the truth. Brady was his father.

He stuffed the envelope and the papers back into his binder and settled down in his recliner to ruminate over a stiff drink.

* * *

"I'm okay, Johnny." Alex sprinkled salt over her plate.

The restaurant was busy, but not crowded. Johnny watched his sister eat for a few minutes and then asked, "You and Goren… are you still… together?"

"He's my partner," she answered.

"I'm not talking about work."  
"What makes you think—"

"Alex…"

"Okay, so… yeah. I guess."

"What do you mean, you guess?"

"It's complicated."

"That's a cop-out."

"No, it really is complicated."

Johnny wasn't satisfied with her answer. "Look, Alex, I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"You think Bobby would hurt me?"

"I don't know."

"Johnny, I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have to."

"Which is why I'm seeing him."

Johnny shook his head. "What happened, anyway? All this mess with Joe's murder?"

Alex looked down and sighed. "Quinn was killed."

"Joe's partner Quinn?"

She nodded sadly. "And the case kept crossing with Joe's case. And we had to reopen it. It turns out Delgado was innocent."

"Jesus, Alex. I had no idea."

She shrugged. "We found the man who… Bobby helped me."

"He's a good Detective," Johnny said.

"He's a great Detective." She twisted her drink a few turns against the palm of her hand. "And a great friend."

"But it's complicated," Johnny told her with a slight grin.

"Just think of it as us… taking it slow."

Johnny regarded his sister with a kind eye. "Okay, sis. But if he ever crosses you—"

"Then I'll kick his ass," she said. They shared a smile. The waiter returned, and Johnny got his billfold from his back pocket. "I got this," he said.


End file.
